Snow and Sunshine

From Winter to Spring in less than three weeks. Snow in the backyard that had our tree break in half and land on our neighbors car to spending the day in the mountains at our favorite spot. 

Columbines, Indian Paintbrushes and Mountain Lupine cascaded on the hillsides. Colorado Mountains are spectacular.  But the area surrounding the campsite is still recovering from the Hayman fire that happened in 2002. According to the Denver Post article written by Johns Ingold "By the time firefighters gained control of the Hayman fire — more than one month after it began — it had charred 137,760 acres in Park, Teller, Jefferson and Douglas counties, a footprint nearly twice as large as Colorado's second-biggest fire. On one day alone, it ran 19 miles. It put up a smoke plume so massive that it created its own weather."

I can remember that summer where ash rained down on us, our clothes, homes and cars  in the suberbs of Denver. The orange looking sun was hidden behind the hazy skyline of smoke all summer long.

 Another hard week with my back still giving me trouble. But even moreso as my sister, the one I traveled through London with lost her mother-in-law. As her husband and two sons along with others escorted their mother/grandmother's casket out of the chapel, my heart broke as her teenage sons broke down in anguish of heart.

It was a sweet service. So beautiful that it hurt especially as white doves were released and then circled around the cemetery until the last bird was released. And then they altogether flew out of our sight. Just as Marlene had.

While we were at the cemetery, we went to visit my grandmas. The three ladies that were cousins to my grandpa that took over raising my dad when his mother passed away when he was a teenager.

And now onto writing, I'm starting to plot scenes in my mind. New ideas are coming again. So I have great hopes of starting the process again. It's hard to start anew when I'm still re-writing the first book. Still mining for the right words to set the scenes the way I want them to look instead of how they actually are.

I have left my greatest news for the last. I have wanted someone from the UK to look at my blog for the longest time. To follow my journey of writing and life. Just this morning my first UK viewer came online. I can only assume they arrived by mistake and quickly left but the numbers are the numbers and someone from the UK opened my blog. Yay!!!  

Reunions and Regency, England

This last weekend, I took my Mom to her 60th high school reunion. It is an hour outside of Denver in the small little town of Kiowa. I did not want her driving at night especially with my Dad unable to attend. He still had one more performance in the Show he was in.

So I offered my services as driver, she accepted. A classmate of hers also lived nearby and so after picking up my Mom in the pouring rain, we went on to pick up Mary and her husband, Jim. It was 4:30 when we left and it rained the whole way. The original high school that my Mom attended has been turned into a museum. They were giving tours but the rain stopped us from walking the short distance.

With umbrellas protecting us from the torrential rain, we walked into the new High School. My Mom was surrounded by people she knew from so long ago, and it seemed as if the door to those days stood wide open. I saw my Mom as a school girl and all her friends in the same way. They exchanged hugs and stories. There were two tables for the Class of 1955. One man from the next table over, yelled to one of the ladies I was sitting with. "Elsie is that you? You look as good as you did in high school." She giggled like a school girl and her face took on a pinkish tinge as she said to me, "It's like we're 18 again."  

In a graduating class of fourteen, three have passed away. Two were not able to come, but nine attended. The Class of 1965 had a table and when their speaker came to the podium, he said, "Everyone in his class was somehow part of the military. Either they enlisted or were drafted. They all came back, but Vietnam had taken a part of each of them." He went on to say that the Class of '55 were Preachers but the Class of '65 were Fighters. The Class of 1975 reported on their classmates as did the Class of 1985 and 1995. Other classmates came to the reunion from years other than the ones listed above and sat together. One man came from the Class of 1947.  The National Honor Society served the meal which was delicious.


The tablecloths were school colors of Orange and Black with the class of 2015 sitting at the head table. I'm not sure but it seemed as if there only nine students graduating.

As the Alumni welcomed them into the ranks of being Kiowa High School Alumni, some rolled their eyes. Others left early and one showed up so late that he missed all but the last fifteen minutes. It was right and proper because those at the head table were still living their high school days, still dreading finals, still waiting for ten days to pass before their graduation ceremony, still have yet to begin lives on their own.

Maybe that's why I love the Regency Period so much. It connects me with a time and a place that is forever gone. But can be accessed through pictures and books. It's not quite the same, but it is as close as we can ever get to it. We keep it alive. We visit there often enough and though only fictional characters the essence of those times spill into our lives as we join in their laughter and tears.

Shows, Writing and London

Usually for Mother's Day, my kids help me plant the garden, pull weeds and put flowers in the pots and in the flower garden in the front yard. I love getting so much work done in a single afternoon and then it feels as if summer has officially begun. But for the second year in a row, snow is predicted. So instead of planting, we will play card games, go through photo albums and my husband will make something yummy for dinner. It should be a good day.

Went to my Mom and Dad's show this week. It was very enjoyable. My Mom was in the chorus and my Dad played the accordion and sang.









Below is Leicester Square, my sister and I spent a lot of time walking around this area. It is in the Theater District.

The first picture is one side of the square and the other is the other side. Cars and people share the road.


I wish I could report that I've come to the end of editing one of my books and am ready to self-publish or send out querries to publishers.

But instead, I am still re-working both my Regency and my modern day novel. I'm on Chapter 8 of the former and 10 on the latter. I've said it before that it is a lonely job filled with words that almost work. And then in a moment of inspiration it comes together.

Only to find another chapter that isn't quite right. The process begins again. Sometimes the moment of inspiration does not come and then you work hard until something takes shape. I worked on a chapter for two days and it is not quite right. So today, I will keep at it. Maybe inspiration will come or maybe I'll need to work it. Either way progress will be made.

 The picture below is one I took during a walk near Covent Garden on our way back to the Cavendish Hotel.