Because no matter how hard I try, I'm really not good at social media, hence the mini-posts. I do enjoy Pinterest because, hey, pretty pictures. If you're looking for the blog, you can find that here.
Oh, Christmas, dear Christmas, a time to believe,
When kindness and grace, like snowflakes, conceive,
A sonnet to sing of this magical sight,
Short and sweet, as love fills the starry night.
Through frost-laden air, love's warmth does arise,
A twinkle in eyes, a sparkle that flies,
The laughter of children, innocent and free,
Heralds the wonder this season will be.
Thanksgiving does not end simply because its passing is marked by a single date on the calendar. Its essence lingers, when embraced, well into the Christmas season, shaping the atmosphere and celebrations of the upcoming holidays.
We've picked out our tree, have planned some of the delicious treats that will fill the kitchen with tantalizing aromas (some new, some old favorites), and are awaiting a new Christmas cottage puzzle. Each memory is precious in its simplicity and not a single moment passes without giving overwhelming thanks that such things we so often take for granted are possible.
Whether it be decorating a Christmas tree, indulging in delicious treats, or solving a puzzle, these simple yet cherished activities remind us to appreciate the little things in life, for those little things often become the most important memories that we carry with us always.
And really, really important . . . Don't forget all the wonderful books you can give as Christmas gifts!
I once again enjoyed another book from a favorite author, Susanna Kearsley's books. Named of the Dragon is a great book and recommended.
From bestselling author Susanna Kearsley comes a story in which romance and the paranormal combine in a suspenseful Welsh setting to inspire one woman to confront the past and face her own ghosts.
The charm of spending the Christmas holidays in South Wales, with its rich history, crumbling castles and ancient myths, seems the perfect distraction from the nightmares that have plagued literary agent Lyn Ravenshaw since the loss of her baby five years ago.
Instead, she meets an emotionally fragile young widow who's convinced that Lyn's recurring dreams have drawn her to Castle Farm for an important purpose―and she's running out of time.
With the help of a reclusive, brooding playwright, Lyn begins to untangle the mystery and is pulled into a world of Celtic legends, dangerous prophecies, and a child destined for greatness.
I re-read The Shadowy Horses because it has been far too long since I last read it, and Susanna Kearsley is a favorite author. This was the first book of hers I read, and I've forgotten a few of the details. I have not, however, forgotten how much I enjoyed it. If you haven't tried any of Kearsley's books, I highly recommend them.
The stillness of smoky summer days is conducive to writing, allowing me to focus without any interruptions. Of course, such days come with a cost.
Our valley is surrounded by wildfires at the moment, which means smoke from all directions. The air is heavy with the smell of burning wood, like several out-of-control campfires. The smoke is a reminder of how quickly and drastically nature can change, and how delicate our existence is in this wild landscape.
Several scenes in my work-in-progress (a Crooked Creek installment) feature the characters' facing off against the elements. Whether it be rain, cold, or the unexpected surprises of nature, even fictional friends are at nature's mercy. They're calling me back to their world in 1868, and I'm eager to return. David Tolk's beautiful piano music has kept me company for my last two writing sessions, and now the soft melodies of Stuart Jones's Celtic Piano album are playing in the background.
