I am an impatient person. It is one of my flaws, and I have all too many of those.
I just hate to wait. Hope deferred, as the Bible says, makes the heart sick.
Don't think I'm not grateful--I have been blessed with a career I love, and all the benefits that come with it. I just have a tendency to focus on future goals, to the point where I miss the wonderful things that are happening in my life right now.
I have reconnected with my cousin, Jay Dee, the singing cowboy and champion motorbike rider. (His dad, my Uncle Jack, was the rodeo cowboy I told you about, and Jay has the same spirit.) His beautiful sisters, Barbara Lynn and Becky, are an inspiration to me. Their courage, faith and creativity would fill a hundred blogs. They make jewelry, and many other ingeniously lovely things, and write poetry that touches the heart. Oh, indeed, they are a blessing. Google Jay Lael, and you'll see what I mean.
Here is what came out of my journaling this morning. Suppose what I see as delays are REALLY sacred processes instead? So often it is not the event that troubles us, but the way we perceive that event. Do we see some setback, large or small, as a delay? Or might we examine it more closely and, as Tony Robbins says, "reframe" it?
I know there are things you are praying for, and things you are waiting for, and maybe your heart is even a little (or a lot) sick, because you have named the challenge "Delay". Try naming it "Process" instead.
You don't have to look very far to see that God works by process. Great trees don't spring up overnight. And neither do great dreams. Would you plant an acorn and stand over the place where you buried it, wringing your hands and lamenting, "When, oh, when, will there be a tree?" (Variations on this pitiful theme are: "God must not want me to have this tree" and "Trees grow for others, but not for me.") NO, of course not! You would say, "I planted an acorn here. A great tree will grow on this very spot." You might water the ground, or even place a protective fence around it to keep it safe. But you would trust in the Process that makes a tree. So it is with dreams--you plant them, you nurture them, and you believe they will grow. You water them, often with tears, but you don't dig them up to see if they've sprouted. You trust the process.
Think about it. Are your dreams delayed? Or are they in process?
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Tonight, We Glow
Even as I write, there are workmen in front of the house, putting up Christmas lights. It's very cold, and we have a light snow covering the ground. Tonight, we glow!
This is just the kind of job I can't depend on None to do. He doesn't mow the lawn, take out the garbage, or add to the family income. I don't know why I put up with him.
This is just the kind of job I can't depend on None to do. He doesn't mow the lawn, take out the garbage, or add to the family income. I don't know why I put up with him.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Snow
There's a skiff on the ground, and the sky is burdened and gray.
Let the flakes fall!
Why do I love snow so much? Well, admittedly, loving snow is something of a luxury, because I don't have to commute.
To me, snow is sacred. It mantles the ground, like a benediction of purity. It is magical. As a child, I knew, even before I opened my eyes in the morning, if it had snowed. There was a special stillness in the air, full of festive promise.
There is much to be sad about, in the world today. But the planet and the world are actually too distinctly different places, aren't they?
Think about it.
Let the flakes fall!
Why do I love snow so much? Well, admittedly, loving snow is something of a luxury, because I don't have to commute.
To me, snow is sacred. It mantles the ground, like a benediction of purity. It is magical. As a child, I knew, even before I opened my eyes in the morning, if it had snowed. There was a special stillness in the air, full of festive promise.
There is much to be sad about, in the world today. But the planet and the world are actually too distinctly different places, aren't they?
Think about it.
Monday, November 27, 2006
None and I
Computers. They can be funny.
Recently, thinking of joining a discount club, I filled out an online form, asking for pertinent information. I entered the usual name, address, phone number, along with my great-grandmother's lingerie size. (Just kidding, but sometimes it seems that specific!)
I soon came to the line for spouse's name.
Dutifully, I wrote "None".
A few minutes later, I received a very nice email in response, inviting None and I to come into the store and take a look around.
It quickly became a running joke here on the Triple L, as such things generally do.
None is actually a pretty great guy. He doesn't hog the covers, leave his shorts on the bathroom floor, or the toilet seat up. He never gives me any backtalk or gripes about charge card bills.
Dear None. He's my favorite kind of husband.
Recently, thinking of joining a discount club, I filled out an online form, asking for pertinent information. I entered the usual name, address, phone number, along with my great-grandmother's lingerie size. (Just kidding, but sometimes it seems that specific!)
I soon came to the line for spouse's name.
Dutifully, I wrote "None".
A few minutes later, I received a very nice email in response, inviting None and I to come into the store and take a look around.
It quickly became a running joke here on the Triple L, as such things generally do.
None is actually a pretty great guy. He doesn't hog the covers, leave his shorts on the bathroom floor, or the toilet seat up. He never gives me any backtalk or gripes about charge card bills.
Dear None. He's my favorite kind of husband.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Happy Frenzy
Today, the crew and I are getting ready to schlep food, dogs, blankets and relatives to the lake house, where we will celebrate Thanksgiving.
May you be as blessed as we are.
May you be as blessed as we are.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Angels
I've been thinking a lot about angels lately. There are a lot of books, websites, videos, fortune-telling cards, etc., out there--and angels are the subject. Some of these venues present angels as celestial bellhops, others practically advocate worshipping them. As a Christian, I'm uncomfortable with either approach.
Still, there must be something to this angel thing. The Bible mentions them. What, exactly, is their function, and how are we to relate to them, if at all?
I'm a writer. I think in metaphors, and here's what came to me as I journaled this morning.
Suppose you were the President's daughter (or son). You would have access to the Oval Office, but you would also have a contingent of Secret Service agents, assigned to protect you at all costs. While you might presume to order them around a little, their real instructions would come from the President and only the President. With me so far? They might buy you an ice cream cone, but only if the President wanted you eating ice cream. In times of danger, they would close ranks around you, fierce warriors, deadly to any attacker. Why? Because they know the President loves you, and they were assigned to take care of you. Other times, they sit around in their shirt sleeves in the kitchen, playing cards and telling inside jokes, while you sleep peacefully in the next room. That's how I see angels.
I am ashamed to say I have not always been an easy charge. I've tried to sneak out of the White House--thank God (literally) I could never shake them. I've thrown tantrums. I've folded my arms and refused to speak to them. Once, I even accused them of sitting on their butts since 1992! Now, I'm changing my attitude.
I'm grateful, guys. I'll try to co-operate, and not just because I'm going to be in big trouble in the Oval Office if I don't. I apologize.
Now, how about dealing me in on the next hand of cards?
Still, there must be something to this angel thing. The Bible mentions them. What, exactly, is their function, and how are we to relate to them, if at all?
I'm a writer. I think in metaphors, and here's what came to me as I journaled this morning.
Suppose you were the President's daughter (or son). You would have access to the Oval Office, but you would also have a contingent of Secret Service agents, assigned to protect you at all costs. While you might presume to order them around a little, their real instructions would come from the President and only the President. With me so far? They might buy you an ice cream cone, but only if the President wanted you eating ice cream. In times of danger, they would close ranks around you, fierce warriors, deadly to any attacker. Why? Because they know the President loves you, and they were assigned to take care of you. Other times, they sit around in their shirt sleeves in the kitchen, playing cards and telling inside jokes, while you sleep peacefully in the next room. That's how I see angels.
I am ashamed to say I have not always been an easy charge. I've tried to sneak out of the White House--thank God (literally) I could never shake them. I've thrown tantrums. I've folded my arms and refused to speak to them. Once, I even accused them of sitting on their butts since 1992! Now, I'm changing my attitude.
I'm grateful, guys. I'll try to co-operate, and not just because I'm going to be in big trouble in the Oval Office if I don't. I apologize.
Now, how about dealing me in on the next hand of cards?
Angels
I've been thinking a lot about angels lately. There are a lot of books, websites, videos, fortune-telling cards, etc., out there--and angels are the subject. Some of these venues present angels as celestial bellhops, others practically advocate worshipping them. As a Christian, I'm uncomfortable with either approach.
Still, there must be something to this angel thing. The Bible mentions them. What, exactly, is their function, and how are we to relate to them, if at all?
I'm a writer. I think in metaphors, and here's what came to me as I journaled this morning.
Suppose you were the President's daughter (or son). You would have access to the Oval Office, but you would also have a contingent of Secret Service agents, assigned to protect you at all costs. While you might presume to order them around a little, their real instructions would come from the President and only the President. With me so far? They might buy you an ice cream cone, but only if the President wanted you eating ice cream. In times of danger, they would close ranks around you, fierce warriors, deadly to any attacker. Why? Because they know the President loves you, and they were assigned to take care of you. Other times, they sit around in their shirt sleeves in the kitchen, playing cards and telling inside jokes, while you sleep peacefully in the next room. That's how I see angels.
I am ashamed to say I have not always been an easy charge. I've tried to sneak out of the White House--thank God (literally) I could never shake them. I've thrown tantrums. I've folded my arms and refused to speak to them. Once, I even accused them of sitting on their butts since 1992! Now, I'm changing my attitude.
I'm grateful, guys. I'll try to co-operate, and not just because I'm going to be in big trouble in the Oval Office if I don't. I apologize.
Now, how about dealing me in on the next hand of cards?
Still, there must be something to this angel thing. The Bible mentions them. What, exactly, is their function, and how are we to relate to them, if at all?
I'm a writer. I think in metaphors, and here's what came to me as I journaled this morning.
Suppose you were the President's daughter (or son). You would have access to the Oval Office, but you would also have a contingent of Secret Service agents, assigned to protect you at all costs. While you might presume to order them around a little, their real instructions would come from the President and only the President. With me so far? They might buy you an ice cream cone, but only if the President wanted you eating ice cream. In times of danger, they would close ranks around you, fierce warriors, deadly to any attacker. Why? Because they know the President loves you, and they were assigned to take care of you. Other times, they sit around in their shirt sleeves in the kitchen, playing cards and telling inside jokes, while you sleep peacefully in the next room. That's how I see angels.
I am ashamed to say I have not always been an easy charge. I've tried to sneak out of the White House--thank God (literally) I could never shake them. I've thrown tantrums. I've folded my arms and refused to speak to them. Once, I even accused them of sitting on their butts since 1992! Now, I'm changing my attitude.
I'm grateful, guys. I'll try to co-operate, and not just because I'm going to be in big trouble in the Oval Office if I don't. I apologize.
Now, how about dealing me in on the next hand of cards?
Monday, November 20, 2006
The Weekend
I had a great time in Silverdale and Seattle this weekend. I spoke and signed books at the beautiful new Barnes and Noble book store in Silverdale's Kitsap Mall, and got to see my good friend, Ruthanne Devlin, all too briefly.
When the event was over, I was whisked back to Seattle in a lovely Lincoln, driven by Damian, who owns and operates the Galaxy limousine company and has driven such notables as Debbie Macomber, and put up at the beautiful Fairmont Olympic Hotel. I had time to hike down to visit Chico's and Coldwater Creek, two of my favorite stores. Stopped briefly at Nordstrom, but they're having their half-yearly sale, which is chaotic. Back at the hotel, in my lovely suite, I ordered room service and lounged in a hot bath. It's a hard life, but somebody has to do it!
Good books I've read recently, or am reading now: "Thirteen Moons", by Charles Frazier, author of "Cold Mountain," "The Glass Castle", a memoir that fascinated me, Jodi Picoult's "My Sister's Keeper", and the wonderful "Marley and Me", a story of an incorrigible Lab and the joy he was to a devoted family. (If you have an incorrigible pet, PLEASE don't give up. Go to www.petsforlife.org for pointers that work in the real world.)
I'm spending Thanksgiving at the lake, as I've probably mentioned. We're having a crowd, dogs and people, so it will be happy and hectic--just as Thanksgiving should be. Sadie-beagle and I will probably both have trouble sticking to our diets!
Those of you who missed the first run of "Last Chance Cafe" may have seen it last night, on Lifetime. As anybody who reads this blog knows by now, I was very pleased with the whole production. There will eventually be a DVD, and I'm sure the network will rerun the movie--check your local listings and, of course, Lifetime's website. There's a place to request movies you'd like to see.
In the meantime, "Deadly Gamble" is out there in the marketplace, along with a Christmas anthology, "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and "Sierra's Homecoming", a Silhouette Special Edition and the beginning of the modern McKettrick series. Sierra, as well as her sister, Meg, is a direct descendent of Holt and Lorelei. If you've been wondering what life is like on the Triple M today, check out "Sierra's Homecoming", to be followed in February by "McKettrick's Luck", in March by "McKettrick's Pride", and in April by "McKettrick's Heart." The launch book, "McKettrick's Luck", will be a Wal-Mart Read of the Month. These three are stand-alone paperbacks, not part of the Silhouette line. Next year at this time, Meg's story will be available, as a Special Edition, under the title "The McKettrick Way." Watch for a new McKettrick or two to show up, and witness the connection between Sam and Maddie's ("The Man from Stone Creek") O'Ballivan descendants, and the McKettricks. Sparks will fly when these two proud, stubborn families meet through two lovers, Meg and Brad.
Alas, the weekend is over. Time to push up my sleeves and work. Good thing I love this job.
Blessings to you, and yours. Human and furry, finned and feathered.
The Lord God loves us all.
When the event was over, I was whisked back to Seattle in a lovely Lincoln, driven by Damian, who owns and operates the Galaxy limousine company and has driven such notables as Debbie Macomber, and put up at the beautiful Fairmont Olympic Hotel. I had time to hike down to visit Chico's and Coldwater Creek, two of my favorite stores. Stopped briefly at Nordstrom, but they're having their half-yearly sale, which is chaotic. Back at the hotel, in my lovely suite, I ordered room service and lounged in a hot bath. It's a hard life, but somebody has to do it!
Good books I've read recently, or am reading now: "Thirteen Moons", by Charles Frazier, author of "Cold Mountain," "The Glass Castle", a memoir that fascinated me, Jodi Picoult's "My Sister's Keeper", and the wonderful "Marley and Me", a story of an incorrigible Lab and the joy he was to a devoted family. (If you have an incorrigible pet, PLEASE don't give up. Go to www.petsforlife.org for pointers that work in the real world.)
I'm spending Thanksgiving at the lake, as I've probably mentioned. We're having a crowd, dogs and people, so it will be happy and hectic--just as Thanksgiving should be. Sadie-beagle and I will probably both have trouble sticking to our diets!
Those of you who missed the first run of "Last Chance Cafe" may have seen it last night, on Lifetime. As anybody who reads this blog knows by now, I was very pleased with the whole production. There will eventually be a DVD, and I'm sure the network will rerun the movie--check your local listings and, of course, Lifetime's website. There's a place to request movies you'd like to see.
In the meantime, "Deadly Gamble" is out there in the marketplace, along with a Christmas anthology, "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and "Sierra's Homecoming", a Silhouette Special Edition and the beginning of the modern McKettrick series. Sierra, as well as her sister, Meg, is a direct descendent of Holt and Lorelei. If you've been wondering what life is like on the Triple M today, check out "Sierra's Homecoming", to be followed in February by "McKettrick's Luck", in March by "McKettrick's Pride", and in April by "McKettrick's Heart." The launch book, "McKettrick's Luck", will be a Wal-Mart Read of the Month. These three are stand-alone paperbacks, not part of the Silhouette line. Next year at this time, Meg's story will be available, as a Special Edition, under the title "The McKettrick Way." Watch for a new McKettrick or two to show up, and witness the connection between Sam and Maddie's ("The Man from Stone Creek") O'Ballivan descendants, and the McKettricks. Sparks will fly when these two proud, stubborn families meet through two lovers, Meg and Brad.
Alas, the weekend is over. Time to push up my sleeves and work. Good thing I love this job.
Blessings to you, and yours. Human and furry, finned and feathered.
The Lord God loves us all.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Kevin as Chance
I'm still thinking about the movie, as you can see. Who could blame me?
All the actors in "Last Chance Cafe" did a truly marvelous job. Kevin's performance, however, particularly moved me--and not just because he's cute. (Which, of course, he IS.) Kevin actually read the book, and he's a talented and very professional actor, it goes without saying. But I believe he captured Chance so well because he's like Chance. He's a committed family man, with a beautiful wife and children. He's down-to-earth, intelligent, funny, and soft-spoken. These are just things I gathered about him during a very brief meeting on the set, but we have a mutual friend, and she verifies it all.
Do you remember a few blogs back when I mentioned the spiffy-guy who gets his tux wet to rescue a dog stranded on a rainy median, not knowing which way to go? Well, that's the kind of person Chance is, and all my other heroes, too. And I strongly suspect it's the kind of guy Kevin is, too.
I guess it all boils down to this. My heroes--and my heroines, too--are not the kind to drive by, thinking somebody ought to do something. They slam on the brakes. They jump out of the car (more often a truck, because I'm a country girl from way back), the rain be damned, with their sleeves pushed up. And they do what needs to be done, whether it's convenient or not.
I think Kevin is the same kind of man, and that's why his performance stirred me so deeply.
Kevin's not the kind to drive on by.
All the actors in "Last Chance Cafe" did a truly marvelous job. Kevin's performance, however, particularly moved me--and not just because he's cute. (Which, of course, he IS.) Kevin actually read the book, and he's a talented and very professional actor, it goes without saying. But I believe he captured Chance so well because he's like Chance. He's a committed family man, with a beautiful wife and children. He's down-to-earth, intelligent, funny, and soft-spoken. These are just things I gathered about him during a very brief meeting on the set, but we have a mutual friend, and she verifies it all.
Do you remember a few blogs back when I mentioned the spiffy-guy who gets his tux wet to rescue a dog stranded on a rainy median, not knowing which way to go? Well, that's the kind of person Chance is, and all my other heroes, too. And I strongly suspect it's the kind of guy Kevin is, too.
I guess it all boils down to this. My heroes--and my heroines, too--are not the kind to drive by, thinking somebody ought to do something. They slam on the brakes. They jump out of the car (more often a truck, because I'm a country girl from way back), the rain be damned, with their sleeves pushed up. And they do what needs to be done, whether it's convenient or not.
I think Kevin is the same kind of man, and that's why his performance stirred me so deeply.
Kevin's not the kind to drive on by.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
From the Lake House!
I just spent my first night at Sanctuary, my lake retreat. Sadie and Bernice are still adjusting, and sticking pretty close.
I plan to work on a book today, and frankly, I'm still coming down from seeing the wonderful production of my Lifetime TV movie, "Last Chance Cafe". For those of you who missed the Monday night premiere, it will be on again on November 19. There is a DVD in the works, as I understand it, but I don't know when that will be available. Be sure to watch the website and this blog for developing stories.
We had high winds during the night and are expecting more today. The house is cozy, though, with a spectacular view. Right now, Sadie, Bernice and I are in my wonderful new loft office, where I expect to write many wonderful books.
More news tomorrow.
I plan to work on a book today, and frankly, I'm still coming down from seeing the wonderful production of my Lifetime TV movie, "Last Chance Cafe". For those of you who missed the Monday night premiere, it will be on again on November 19. There is a DVD in the works, as I understand it, but I don't know when that will be available. Be sure to watch the website and this blog for developing stories.
We had high winds during the night and are expecting more today. The house is cozy, though, with a spectacular view. Right now, Sadie, Bernice and I are in my wonderful new loft office, where I expect to write many wonderful books.
More news tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
I LOVED IT!!!!!
I thought "Last Chance Cafe" was a slam-dunk winner, though of course I may be prejudiced!
Kudos to:
Josanne Lovick, a force of nature, and the person who brought this project from conception to airtime. You are a champ!
Kevin Sorbo: Honey, you are easy on the eyes, and you SO nailed Chance. Watching you, I believed you were Chance. (And you were right about the hat.)
Kate Vernon: You did a fabulous job as Hallie! Thank you!
Samantha Ferris: Your performance as Madge was letter-perfect.
Pam Wallace: screenwriter extraordinaire, co-author of "Witness", what an honor to have you adapt my big and unwieldy book into a fine script. Thanks for staying so close to my original intentions for the story.
To the director: I don't have your name handy, but that doesn't make me one bit less grateful. You fit a lot of story into a very small space, and you made it work.
To the fabulous little pro who played Kiley: You were terrific, honey. Someday, you'll be an amazing leading lady.
All members of the cast: I wish I knew all your names. Every single one of you blew me away.
One last thing: thanks to all of you for being so nice to a star-struck writer visiting the set of her very first TV movie, including the stellar crew.
What did I enjoy most about the movie, besides seeing my name on the screen in big letters?
The first kiss.
WOW. Now THAT'S romance!
Kudos to:
Josanne Lovick, a force of nature, and the person who brought this project from conception to airtime. You are a champ!
Kevin Sorbo: Honey, you are easy on the eyes, and you SO nailed Chance. Watching you, I believed you were Chance. (And you were right about the hat.)
Kate Vernon: You did a fabulous job as Hallie! Thank you!
Samantha Ferris: Your performance as Madge was letter-perfect.
Pam Wallace: screenwriter extraordinaire, co-author of "Witness", what an honor to have you adapt my big and unwieldy book into a fine script. Thanks for staying so close to my original intentions for the story.
To the director: I don't have your name handy, but that doesn't make me one bit less grateful. You fit a lot of story into a very small space, and you made it work.
To the fabulous little pro who played Kiley: You were terrific, honey. Someday, you'll be an amazing leading lady.
All members of the cast: I wish I knew all your names. Every single one of you blew me away.
One last thing: thanks to all of you for being so nice to a star-struck writer visiting the set of her very first TV movie, including the stellar crew.
What did I enjoy most about the movie, besides seeing my name on the screen in big letters?
The first kiss.
WOW. Now THAT'S romance!
Monday, November 13, 2006
Tonight's the Night!
I am over the moon with excitement! Tonight, I get to see my book, "The Last Chance Cafe", come alive on Lifetime TV! We're planning to dine on popcorn and champagne and, as the cowboys say, really whoop it up.
I should be writing today, but the truth is, I just can't concentrate.
I'm too happy, too blessed, and too grateful.
I should be writing today, but the truth is, I just can't concentrate.
I'm too happy, too blessed, and too grateful.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Auntie's Again Tonight!
I'll be at Auntie's Book Store, in downtown Spokane, tonight at 7:30. I hope some of you will stop by and say howdy.
As for me, I'm living in happy disruption--there is painting going on, and carpets are being replaced. (Bernice, my Yorkie, alluded to the reasons why in her recent blog.) At the same time, we're getting the lake house set up for occupation. I plan to write my next book out there. Yesterday, while waiting for beds to be delivered, I watched a bald eagle soaring over the water. Not so long ago, they were almost extinct. Now they're back. (Of course I'll be extra careful to watch out for Bernice when we're out there.)
And there is always the meantime. The movie has me tremendously excited, of course. The reviews of "Deadly Gamble" have been wonderful.
For those of you who have been following the Clare and Tony stories, "Don't Look Now", "Never Look Back" and "One Last Look", the third and final 'episode', "One Last Look", already out in tradesize, will be released in mass market paperback by Pocket Books on December 6.
Have a good weekend.
As for me, I'm living in happy disruption--there is painting going on, and carpets are being replaced. (Bernice, my Yorkie, alluded to the reasons why in her recent blog.) At the same time, we're getting the lake house set up for occupation. I plan to write my next book out there. Yesterday, while waiting for beds to be delivered, I watched a bald eagle soaring over the water. Not so long ago, they were almost extinct. Now they're back. (Of course I'll be extra careful to watch out for Bernice when we're out there.)
And there is always the meantime. The movie has me tremendously excited, of course. The reviews of "Deadly Gamble" have been wonderful.
For those of you who have been following the Clare and Tony stories, "Don't Look Now", "Never Look Back" and "One Last Look", the third and final 'episode', "One Last Look", already out in tradesize, will be released in mass market paperback by Pocket Books on December 6.
Have a good weekend.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Yesterday
Yesterday was certainly an emotional one. We gathered, Laels and friends, to say good-bye to my uncle, Jack Lael. We will all miss him very much. He was a genuine cowboy, the real article. My cousins, Barbara Lynn, Becky and J.D. were all there to say farewell to their dad. Later, J.D. took out his guitar and sang, and it lifted all our hearts. Jack left these three a legacy of courage, laughter in the face of adversity, and good old-fashioned grit--along with good looks. They all inherited their mother, Arlee's, talent for art. I'm so proud of all of them.
In the evening, I saw the ad for "Last Chance Cafe" for the first time. I can't believe it--the time is finally near--the movie will actually air on November 13--this Monday! I am so excited.
That's life, isn't it? A combination of joy and sorrow and everything in between. What a rich tapestry the Lord weaves for each of us.
In the evening, I saw the ad for "Last Chance Cafe" for the first time. I can't believe it--the time is finally near--the movie will actually air on November 13--this Monday! I am so excited.
That's life, isn't it? A combination of joy and sorrow and everything in between. What a rich tapestry the Lord weaves for each of us.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Possible or Impossible?
A good friend emailed me this morning, asking where I would draw the line between possible and impossible. The answer came to me rather quickly, perhaps because I had just come from my prayer/journaling time.
For me, this line lies inches from the feet of Jesus Christ. In Him, I truly believe, all things are possible. Without Him, well--stay home, with the covers pulled up over your head, because if He's not part of the equation, it's a bust.
As you know, my beloved Uncle Jack has passed on. I'm going to his funeral today, not so much to mourn, but to celebrate a life fully lived, with others who loved him as I did.
I'll be back to blog tomorrow.
For me, this line lies inches from the feet of Jesus Christ. In Him, I truly believe, all things are possible. Without Him, well--stay home, with the covers pulled up over your head, because if He's not part of the equation, it's a bust.
As you know, my beloved Uncle Jack has passed on. I'm going to his funeral today, not so much to mourn, but to celebrate a life fully lived, with others who loved him as I did.
I'll be back to blog tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
The Last Chance Cafe
The movie got a mention on "Access Hollywood" last night, complete with a clip!
I am delighted, of course.
Remember to watch--Monday, November 13, six Pacific, nine eastern.
I'm so eager to see that movie, I can hardly stand it.
In the meantime, though, Mojo is waiting to wrap up the second spooky adventure in the series. And you know how she gets, if you read her blog entries. (Have you read "Deadly Gamble" yet?)
I am delighted, of course.
Remember to watch--Monday, November 13, six Pacific, nine eastern.
I'm so eager to see that movie, I can hardly stand it.
In the meantime, though, Mojo is waiting to wrap up the second spooky adventure in the series. And you know how she gets, if you read her blog entries. (Have you read "Deadly Gamble" yet?)
Monday, November 06, 2006
Jack "Jiggs" Lael
My Uncle Jack passed away a couple of days ago, and he will be sorely missed.
I've written about my uncle before on this blog--he was a famous rodeo cowboy in his time, Elvis-handsome, and once won a contest for the best hard-luck story. This afforded him a trip to Dallas and much attention--especially from cowgirls. He rode at Madison Square Garden and on two different occasions, he won the privilege of kissing Miss America.
There are so many great stories about my uncle I couldn't fit them all in here, but in his memory, I want to tell one or two. He was famous for collecting and driving old, rattle-trap cars, and in his later years, when the ranching business went sour, he took a job at the lumber yard in Northport, owned by a man named Bob Wilson. One winter day, when my dad (Jack's younger brother) was supplementing the family income by driving a schoolbus, he came upon one of Jack's old cars in a snowbank, abandoned. Footprints led back in the direction of the ranch, so Dad figured Jack had hiked on home, and didn't worry overmuch. (The Laels are a tough crew.) A little farther down the road, here was a second heap, and more footprints headed back toward the ranch. (The Laels are persistent, too, though some would say 'bull-headed' would be a better description.) Dad chuckled and shook his head and went on. At last, he rounded a bend and found a third jalopy, broke down and going nowhere. This time, however, my uncle was there. Dad whooshed open the schoolbus door to offer a ride. Uncle Jack looked at him with that crooked cowboy grin and said, "You tell Bob Wilson I tried to get to work!" Each time a car had gone kaput, he'd gone back to the ranch for another one.
On another occasion, when I was five or six, the powers-that-be bussed all us kids to Colville, a bigger town than Northport, which isn't saying much, so we could get our shots. I'm here to tell you, I hated shots, and I was having none of it. Once we got to the clinic in Colville, I made a break for it--and ran right into my Uncle Jack in the doorway. I still remember how safe I felt in his arms, all those years ago, and how he grinned and said, "It'll be all right, Lindy." He held me until the shot was over. I don't remember the prick of that needle. I DO remember the comfort of my uncle's presence, and the quiet strength in his words.
Jack was always horse-crazy, and as you know, another Uncle Jack passed on earlier this year, to join his brother, Raymond, who had gone before. Here's how I figure it. When Jack Lael crossed over, Jack and Ray Wiley were surely waiting for him, on horseback, with a third horse saddled for him. I'll bet they grinned their cowboy grins and said, "This outfit ain't half bad to ride for."
Godspeed, all of you.
And you'd better me waiting with a horse for me when I get there!
I've written about my uncle before on this blog--he was a famous rodeo cowboy in his time, Elvis-handsome, and once won a contest for the best hard-luck story. This afforded him a trip to Dallas and much attention--especially from cowgirls. He rode at Madison Square Garden and on two different occasions, he won the privilege of kissing Miss America.
There are so many great stories about my uncle I couldn't fit them all in here, but in his memory, I want to tell one or two. He was famous for collecting and driving old, rattle-trap cars, and in his later years, when the ranching business went sour, he took a job at the lumber yard in Northport, owned by a man named Bob Wilson. One winter day, when my dad (Jack's younger brother) was supplementing the family income by driving a schoolbus, he came upon one of Jack's old cars in a snowbank, abandoned. Footprints led back in the direction of the ranch, so Dad figured Jack had hiked on home, and didn't worry overmuch. (The Laels are a tough crew.) A little farther down the road, here was a second heap, and more footprints headed back toward the ranch. (The Laels are persistent, too, though some would say 'bull-headed' would be a better description.) Dad chuckled and shook his head and went on. At last, he rounded a bend and found a third jalopy, broke down and going nowhere. This time, however, my uncle was there. Dad whooshed open the schoolbus door to offer a ride. Uncle Jack looked at him with that crooked cowboy grin and said, "You tell Bob Wilson I tried to get to work!" Each time a car had gone kaput, he'd gone back to the ranch for another one.
On another occasion, when I was five or six, the powers-that-be bussed all us kids to Colville, a bigger town than Northport, which isn't saying much, so we could get our shots. I'm here to tell you, I hated shots, and I was having none of it. Once we got to the clinic in Colville, I made a break for it--and ran right into my Uncle Jack in the doorway. I still remember how safe I felt in his arms, all those years ago, and how he grinned and said, "It'll be all right, Lindy." He held me until the shot was over. I don't remember the prick of that needle. I DO remember the comfort of my uncle's presence, and the quiet strength in his words.
Jack was always horse-crazy, and as you know, another Uncle Jack passed on earlier this year, to join his brother, Raymond, who had gone before. Here's how I figure it. When Jack Lael crossed over, Jack and Ray Wiley were surely waiting for him, on horseback, with a third horse saddled for him. I'll bet they grinned their cowboy grins and said, "This outfit ain't half bad to ride for."
Godspeed, all of you.
And you'd better me waiting with a horse for me when I get there!
Friday, November 03, 2006
Foggy Mountain
If I were naming this place today, I'd call it Foggy Mountain. Yesterday afternoon, I was delighted to look up from my writing and seeing snow coming down. Today, the draw is shrouded in fog, ghosting the great pines to specter trees.
It's a day to have the fire going, and a pot of 15-bean soup bubbling on the stovetop. Bernice is curled up on my bed, and Sadie is downstairs somewhere, trying to cadge an extra breakfast from some upsuspecting soul. The kitties are performing clandestine missions, as usual, little furry spies with all manner of secret hiding places.
And it's a perfect day to write. The fog imposes a cozy, stay-at-home kind of atmosphere. On days like this, I become a little reflective. Today, I'm thinking of a TV commercial I loved--I couldn't tell you what the product was for sure, but here's the scene: a man and woman are driving through a slashing rainstorm, both of them dressed to the teeth for the opera or the symphony or some expensive benefit, and they see a wet, bedraggled dog trapped on a median. They stop, and the man gets out of the car, in his exquisitely tailored tux, sprints through the relentless downpour, hoists the dog up in both arms, and loads him in the back of their SUV. You know they're going to take that dog home and keep him safe and try to find his owners.
I could love a man like that, one who cares a lot more about compassion than ruining his tux or getting the carpet wet in his SUV. Oh, yes. I could love a man like that.
Maybe that's why I'm always so crazy about my heroes. Each and every one of them would do the very same thing.
Wherever you are, and whatever the weather there, I hope you are snug and safe, with one or more beloved pets to keep you company. You will never have more devoted friends than they are.
It's a day to have the fire going, and a pot of 15-bean soup bubbling on the stovetop. Bernice is curled up on my bed, and Sadie is downstairs somewhere, trying to cadge an extra breakfast from some upsuspecting soul. The kitties are performing clandestine missions, as usual, little furry spies with all manner of secret hiding places.
And it's a perfect day to write. The fog imposes a cozy, stay-at-home kind of atmosphere. On days like this, I become a little reflective. Today, I'm thinking of a TV commercial I loved--I couldn't tell you what the product was for sure, but here's the scene: a man and woman are driving through a slashing rainstorm, both of them dressed to the teeth for the opera or the symphony or some expensive benefit, and they see a wet, bedraggled dog trapped on a median. They stop, and the man gets out of the car, in his exquisitely tailored tux, sprints through the relentless downpour, hoists the dog up in both arms, and loads him in the back of their SUV. You know they're going to take that dog home and keep him safe and try to find his owners.
I could love a man like that, one who cares a lot more about compassion than ruining his tux or getting the carpet wet in his SUV. Oh, yes. I could love a man like that.
Maybe that's why I'm always so crazy about my heroes. Each and every one of them would do the very same thing.
Wherever you are, and whatever the weather there, I hope you are snug and safe, with one or more beloved pets to keep you company. You will never have more devoted friends than they are.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
November
The weather is turning cold, the leaves are falling, and I await the first real snowfall of the season.
The house is being painted, and I've been shopping for furniture for Sanctuary, my lake place, with excitement. Just yesterday, I found the perfect table to gather around on Thanksgiving Day. (Cousin Kathy Bannon is the appointed cook, and she says if there isn't a table, she's not cooking!)
Although there is year-around gratitude around Chez Linda, November always awakens the spirit of Thanksgiving in me. What a blessing to gather with loved ones, laughing and telling stories, hoisting a wine glass or two. 2006 has been a memorable year in our family. There was some sorrow, when the uncles went on, but there were so many joyous things, too. Moving to this wonderful house, buying a second house on a beautiful lake, a new contract with my wonderful publishers, Harlequin.
In point of fact, I'm wondering how I'll fit it all into my Christmas letter this year.
The house is being painted, and I've been shopping for furniture for Sanctuary, my lake place, with excitement. Just yesterday, I found the perfect table to gather around on Thanksgiving Day. (Cousin Kathy Bannon is the appointed cook, and she says if there isn't a table, she's not cooking!)
Although there is year-around gratitude around Chez Linda, November always awakens the spirit of Thanksgiving in me. What a blessing to gather with loved ones, laughing and telling stories, hoisting a wine glass or two. 2006 has been a memorable year in our family. There was some sorrow, when the uncles went on, but there were so many joyous things, too. Moving to this wonderful house, buying a second house on a beautiful lake, a new contract with my wonderful publishers, Harlequin.
In point of fact, I'm wondering how I'll fit it all into my Christmas letter this year.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
The Yorkie Gets a Turn
My name is Bernice, and I'm a Yorkshire Terrier.
Frankly, I resent Sadie calling me a nervous traveler in yesterday's blog. I'll have you know that I rode in a car, all the way from Cave Creek, Arizona to Spokane, Washington, with my Aunt Jen, without incident. Okay, so I did throw up on one hotel bedspread along the way, but noyorkie's perfect.
Sadie's just jealous because I'm a lap dog, and she's a big, chunky Beagle. Mom tries hard to keep the cuddles equal, but let's face it, I'm easy to pick up and hold. With Sadie, you'd need a forklift.
We have all kinds of nicknames, Sadie and I, and we answer to all of them. Snuggle-bug. Beeg. Porky Yorkie--and those are just a few. (And I am NOT, as it happens, 'porky'.) There's a really long one I don't actually understand, too--Who's-Responsible-for-This? Whatever it is, I think it's the reason Mom is always having carpets torn out and replaced with something she can mop. (Like she ever mops. She doesn't even know how to turn on her own vacum cleaner, but this is a big secret, so please don't tell.)
She bought me a tiara once, in an airport gift shop. (Los Angeles, of course.) I don't know what gets into humans sometimes. And my two-legged sister, Wendy, sent me a cowboy outfit of all things. Hello? I'm a girl. Mom says I'm a little cruise director, and should have a clipboard and a pair of rhinestone trimmed glasses hanging around my neck on a chain. It's true that I like to instigate things, and I'm forever investigating. Around this house, it's called "Bernice Reporting", like I was starring in a TV show or something. I just want to be in the know, that's all. Knowledge is power.
God told me to come down here and be cute. And I'm doing a great job of it.
Frankly, I resent Sadie calling me a nervous traveler in yesterday's blog. I'll have you know that I rode in a car, all the way from Cave Creek, Arizona to Spokane, Washington, with my Aunt Jen, without incident. Okay, so I did throw up on one hotel bedspread along the way, but noyorkie's perfect.
Sadie's just jealous because I'm a lap dog, and she's a big, chunky Beagle. Mom tries hard to keep the cuddles equal, but let's face it, I'm easy to pick up and hold. With Sadie, you'd need a forklift.
We have all kinds of nicknames, Sadie and I, and we answer to all of them. Snuggle-bug. Beeg. Porky Yorkie--and those are just a few. (And I am NOT, as it happens, 'porky'.) There's a really long one I don't actually understand, too--Who's-Responsible-for-This? Whatever it is, I think it's the reason Mom is always having carpets torn out and replaced with something she can mop. (Like she ever mops. She doesn't even know how to turn on her own vacum cleaner, but this is a big secret, so please don't tell.)
She bought me a tiara once, in an airport gift shop. (Los Angeles, of course.) I don't know what gets into humans sometimes. And my two-legged sister, Wendy, sent me a cowboy outfit of all things. Hello? I'm a girl. Mom says I'm a little cruise director, and should have a clipboard and a pair of rhinestone trimmed glasses hanging around my neck on a chain. It's true that I like to instigate things, and I'm forever investigating. Around this house, it's called "Bernice Reporting", like I was starring in a TV show or something. I just want to be in the know, that's all. Knowledge is power.
God told me to come down here and be cute. And I'm doing a great job of it.
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