|
Slowly but surely the new house is coming together. More importantly, my study/office is taking shape. I still need storage units of some sort (for paper type stuff and for yarn type stuff) and a worktable. But I bought a proper chair for typing. Now my butt won’t fall asleep after sitting for more than seventeen minutes. No, I haven’t timed the interval before butt sleep but I think seventeen minutes is a good guess. I’d hoped to get an all-mesh chair – seat and back – but the only one of that style at the store had a headrest that just got in my way. It could be removed by taking out a few screws, but why pay for something I wasn’t going to use? So the chair I bought has a cloth seat and a mesh back. Quite comfy and with good lumbar support. For the second addition to my study, let me tell you a little story. Once upon a time, a long, long time ago – about seven months back – I had a writing cave on the main floor of our former house. But the printer was located in Hubby’s office on the lower floor, connected to my computer via wi-fi. However, sometimes my computer didn’t play nicely with the printer. I’d click “print”, trot downstairs, only to find – nothing. Blergh. So, up I’d go, try to figure out what happened (a futile proposition given my Luddite tendencies), press “print” again, and again trot downstairs only to find – you got it – nothing. BLERGH! So, up I’d go, grab my laptop and take it to the printer, swearing quite colourfully along the way, and finally get the darn thing to print. Frustrating to say the least. Well, new house = new rules. I got my own printer right next to my desk (a treasured heirloom) so I need only spin my chair a hair and there it is. I’m approaching “the end” of the third book, Love & Redemption, in my historical series. Which means it’ll soon be time to print the manuscript for the final edit before sending to my publisher. (I use “final” in the broadest of senses. Final for that week. Final for the time being. Final only until the next round.). I always find typos in the printed manuscript that snuck by me on the screen. And if I need to do a more rigorous edit, I do a better job working with pen and paper. So much more satisfying to slash with a pen than to hit the delete key a few times. Cheers!
0 Comments
 Should you ever have the need to borrow a couple cats for mouse control, don’t bother asking for mine. Talk about useless. A great chase went on in the great room Friday night. To no avail. I searched high and low Saturday morning and couldn’t find a mouse carcass. The cats had let it get away. (I had awakened after something fell over with a crash, and I had definitely heard the squeak of a mouse. So I knew there was a mouse in the house.) Saturday night was a repeat. Sunday morning we saw the wee beastie scamper under the kitchen stove. Of course. Why scamper under something that could easily be moved? I removed the drawer from under the oven to give the cats a sporting chance. The mouse came out several times and sashayed around. Had it been carrying a walking stick it would have twirled said walking stick. Then the mouse hid behind the grandfather clock. Another item of furniture not easily or safely moved. You might suspect the mouse knew what he/she was doing. The mouse then scampered into my study and finally – FINALLY – hid behind an easily moved small cupboard. Child-sized, actually. Built by my dad and tole-painted by my Auntie M, it was designed to hold CDs. I’m not sure what I’ll store in there. Anyway, back to the Great Chase, i.e., the Mouse Hunt, i.e., Now I’ve Got the Bugger. With Mogget standing by (Bruno had tired of the game) I slid one end of the cupboard from the wall just far enough to plop a plastic storage container on top of the rodent. I then slid a pad of paper under the trap and carried the mouse out to the great wilderness that is our yard. I let him/her go next to a stack of lumber should he/she wish to take shelter. I like to think the wee beastie will choose to remain out of doors, safe from the ferocious predator inside, by which I mean me. The cats are useless. Here’s a picture of the breed of mouse in question – deer mouse. I didn’t have time to snap a pic of the actual creature. I’ve got to say, it was awfully cute!  Cheers!
P.S. My newsletter sign-up has been revamped. Hop on over to subscribe and receive a free copy of Whole Lotta Love. My apologies for seemingly falling off the face of the earth. Surprisingly enough, moving into a new house three days before Christmas, AND hosting Christmas dinner leaves little time for extras like writing blog posts, or sleeping. To add more excitement, a ripping windstorm roared through on the 25th and we lost power – as I was peeling the potatoes. Thank goodness for a propane range and a propane “wood stove”. We were cosy, well fed, and we opened gifts by the light of the camping lantern. The latter added to the cosy feel, in my opinion. A week and a few days later we experienced another windstorm. Boy oh boy, the trees were dancing! We didn’t lose power, amazingly, but our kayaks and the 17’ freight canoe were shuttled around the yard as if they were made of paper. No damage, thank goodness. We left the canoe where it landed, safely tucked amongst the trees. <grin> Dare I say we’re over the worst? Probably not, there’s lots more winter to come. As far as the move goes, I think we are over the worst. Ninety percent of the boxes have been unpacked and we’ve lugged over 80 kg of cardboard and packing paper to the recycling depot. We are getting settled in our new nest and starting to feel “at home”. Here’s a snapshot of the view from the dining room.  The water you can see through the trees is pale because it’s covered in ice. Yes, the ocean freezes when the temperature falls to minus 15 degrees Celsius. Brrr! And here’s Bruno checking out his new stomping grounds.  Cheers!
P.S. Today is Bubble Bath Day, so go fill the tub with bubbles! And don’t forget your rubber duckie!  Happy New Year!!!
How’s your headache? <grin> The beginning of a new year means one thing for some people – resolutions. I’ve never done well with resolutions – I’m probably doing it wrong. I think it’s nigh on impossible to wake up on January 1 and BAM, start working out every day. Or POW, quit caffeine. Or SHAZAM, stay away from chocolate. I read a blog post the other day that resonated with me. In it, the author talked about wanting to make positive changes in her life but she understood her limitations and was willing to compromise on the steps she would need to take. What she called half-assing a habit. (Go read the post and then come back.) That’s how I’ll approach my resolution to eat healthier. I know myself too well to even attempt to go cold turkey when it comes to sweets and baked goods. It just wouldn’t happen. So my half-ass attempt at eating healthier will mean one cookie instead of four. Bread only on the weekend. And only one slice of this killer cake per day. (I baked this cake for a New Year’s Eve party and bonfire last night. Ridiculously delicious. But it didn't rise like it should have so was a little...dense. Still wonderfully rummy though.) Are you one who makes a resolution every New Year? Do you stick with it for the entire 365 days of the year? Cheers! Today is National Bake Cookies Day. Seems to me we just celebrated cookie day. *scrolls back through previous posts and discovers it was Homemade Cookie Day*
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. One can never have too many cookies. Unless one eats too many and one feels ill afterward. Glad that’s never happened to me. Certainly never the still-warm cookies that require taste testing. This is prime baking season in my house. My fruitcake was baked a month ago and has been “fed” with whisky every Wednesday since. Why Wednesday? Why not? I’ve baked these chocolate chip cookies twice in the past month. I’ve also baked a test recipe for America’s Test Kitchens, and a batch of Pecan Fingers. Yesterday I baked Swedish Christmas Cookies and a second batch of Pecan Fingers. I predict there’ll be at least one more batch of Pecan Fingers before the end of the year. They’re hubby’s favourite. I don’t often veer from the tried and true cookie recipes. They’re part of what makes this season so special. A real tree in the corner, a turkey in the oven, and a plate of sugar cookies, shortbread cookies, and Pecan Fingers all combine to make the season bright. <grin> Do you have foods that scream “Christmas” to you? Cheers! According to a list of weird and wacky holidays and celebrations, today is National Noodle Ring Day. Um…I need a bit more information. Is it the case that we’re celebrating ring-shaped noodles? Is the creation of ring-shaped noodles so noteworthy we need to devote a day in celebration? I think someone is pulling our collective leg. I certainly won’t be running out to purchase a can of the famous chef’s ring-noodles-in-sauce to serve at my banquet. I mailed my Christmas cards today. The list of friends and relations getting an actual paper card in the actual mail is shrinking as we move more and more recipients to the email version. I think that’s sad in a way. Receiving an email card just isn’t quiet as satisfying as a paper card. And you can’t prop an email card on the mantelpiece, or stick it in a decorative card holder (ours is a wreath topped by a snowman), or suspend it along with its fellows on sewing thread around doors and windows. But with the price of postage increasing, and the relative ease of sending an e-card, using technology to spread cheer and holiday wishes makes sense. We’ll also save a few trees. Except that will mean less work for the foresters and pulp mill operators and the greeting card manufacturers. A conundrum. Do you send greeting cards? Paper, or via the Internet, or a mix of the two? Here’s an excerpt from the upcoming release (THIS FRIDAY!!!) of my next book, Love and Turmoil. You can pre-order now if you'd like to be one of the first to get your cute little hands on this fun story. Arabella and Sam are discussing a way to protect her family. “We’ll be affianced for a few hours at most. There can be no talk of—of—love. Or any other nonsense. Please, don’t mention this in front of the girls.” She licked her parched lips. “Not until I’ve had a chance to explain—” “Arabella.” He clasped her hand, enveloping it in his calloused grip. “I was speaking in jest.” “Oh—I see. Forgive me.” “There is nothing to forgive.” “Thank you.” She suspected she could lose herself in his eyes if she allowed it. Deep blue with silver flecks. Just like the ocean on a summer day. She focused on his hand as it held hers, large, tanned, strong. A man’s hand attached to a man’s body, with all its man parts. Here’s what the story is about: Six months after burying her wastrel husband, Lady Arabella Woodbridge has resigned herself to a lonely life in the countryside with only her two adopted nieces for company. Being a young, respectable widow is – frustrating. Then the charming and wickedly handsome Samuel Payn takes up residence in the neighboring manor house. Retired explorer and occasional pirate Samuel Payn is on a two-fold mission – retrieve buried loot, and locate the father who abandoned his mother to a life of poverty. But a gang of murderous villains is also after the buried treasure. And someone is threatening to tear apart the lovely widow’s family. Will Sam’s single-minded determination to uncover his true identity threaten Arabella’s happiness - and his life? Cheers!  |