Have an Eggcellent Easter!

If you're celebrating Easter today, as we are, I wish you the very best of the season. I'm celebrating as well by NOT having to cook Easter dinner for a change. Or writing much on the blog.

Seb, however, will get a bit of attention because he's finally doing something and I'm not giving him the day off. He's had a week off -- or more!

Happy St Patrick's Day!

Every year I send my son Patrick the card about St Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland while they kick and punch and swat each other in the backseat of his car and say things like, "He hit me!" "I've got to pee!" and "How much farther is it?"

I love that card. I've driven snakes -- and children -- out of a lot of places in my life. The children, at least, keep getting back in!

There are none here at the moment, though, and I miss them. We took the dogs for a walk just as school was about to let out (school here never having spring break and even less so this year when we've had 11 -- count 'em -- snow days). It reminded me of all the years of waiting for them to hurtle down the hill and bang into the house. Much quieter now.

Except for when the postman arrives. The children didn't make nearly as much fuss about the postman as the dogs do. Wonder why.

Seb and I have come to terms. He's working. My Jane Donnelly piece for The Pink Heart, which will go up on Thursday (or late Weds if you live in North or South America). It was such a treat to re-read her books in preparation for writing it. They never get old.

I will be talking about some of my favorites later this week. If you have a favorite Jane Donnelly book, please drop by and share it. If you haven't read Jane Donnelly, you ought to. For me she's the quintessential romance writer.

Everyone has their favorites. She's mine.

Happy St David's Day

No, I'm not in Wales where I could say that and not get odd looks.

But before I got married I had a reasonably common Welsh surname and a father who insisted that somewhere, generations back, we really were Welsh (what part of us wasn't Choctaw, French, Scottish, German and English).

And I do like daffodils. And the name David -- gave it to my eldest son, actually.

So I figure I'm entitled to celebrate.

I'm also celebrating because I did a guest blog at Liz Fielding's the other day (Liz lives in Wales) -- and it's still up so you can go visit and check out an excerpt from the new book (yes, I know it takes place in Ireland, but you can't have everything; besides Ireland was lovely).

I'm happy to report that Seb's book is coming along nicely at the moment. A whole 10 days of well-behaved hero . . . hard to believe. I do sense a bit of white water ahead (though hopefully not a waterfall). It's a matter of figuring out the 'dramatic structure' now.

Not my forte.

Not the planning of it, anyway. Gut reactions, yes, I can do those. So I guess I'll go try to come up with some stuff that I can have gut reactions to and either keep it and work on it or throw it out. At least I'll be getting somewhere.

The contest is over. Flynn will be picking the winner today -- unless Gunnar manages to convince him that he should do it instead. Stay tuned!

And many thanks to all of you who entered.

Hoppy New Year!

I'm trading in the ducks in a row for things that hop this year. I'm hoping for great leaps forward.

Ever the optimist, that's me.

I wish I had a Maine Coon kitten to introduce as a new family member (the dogs don't wish this at all). But I'm happy for those who do have, and I look forward to meeting both of them when I go to England again this summer.

In the meantime I'm not doing resolutions, but I'm hoping for some quiet progress in a variety of areas -- like organization, a semi-clean desk every once in a while, overcoming a few brick walls on the family history front, continued good writer-editor communication. And, especially, I'm crossing my fingers and hoping for terrific heroes to show up and make writing their stories a pleasure this year.

I'd also like to meet some of you who read this blog. While we may not get it done in person, if you would just leave a comment and say where you're from and anything else you'd like on the blog today or later this week, I'd appreciate it.

Sometimes I wonder who's out there (if anyone -- besides Mads, that is, and Sadie, my godcat, and Sid, my feline hero across the pond, and Kate his transcriptionist). I look forward to waking up in the morning and reading some comments.

Hoppy New Year!

Christmas -- a movable feast

Missed me? I missed you guys. But there was just no time to blog this week.

First, of course, there was Ellie and her parents. That was time-consuming enough. And better time was never spent. Of course I'm prejudiced, but she's such a cheerful, pleasant, happy baby. She reminds me of her aunt, my daughter. They have the same 'what's not to love about me?' personality. They expect the best to happen and, generally, they get it.

Ellie's dad is like that, too, come to think of it. Boundless energy and boundless optimism. Nice to be around.

The twins came, too. They're three now. Busy doesn't begin to describe it. They've had haircuts and are beginning to look like individuals rather than clones of each other. That said, it still takes a long look for Grandma to tell them apart. And what fun they are! I'm sorry the older boys weren't able to get here as well.

Thought I'd provide a pic of the dogs to say Merry Christmas to all of you!

Can you tell we had a good Christmas?

And it isn't even officially Christmas yet!

Still . . . it was lovely and I'll have no problem celebrating 10 days early every year. We did that with Thanksgiving one year when the middle son came home in October. It's a movable feast anyway. So we moved it to celebrate when he could be with us. Great fun.

So I took them back to the airport on Monday night to catch a before dawn flight Tuesday morning, then stayed there with my mother to take her to an eye doctor appointment the following day at the major university clinic nearby. She had a corneal transplant last year. She sees better than I do! (Not that she admits it).

And then yesterday we drove home through FOG. Like that stuff that prevented us going to Texas when we tried to get out two days before Thanksgiving. It was thick and soupy and generally impenetrable. I was glad to get home safe and sound.

Now I've heard from the ed that the tweaks were all that PJ and Ally needed and they are in the 'Modern' schedule for next November, and the Presents schedule is "TBA" and the title is, I think I may have mentioned, Antonides' Forbidden Wife. November seems like a long way off. I presume that means hardback in September, though. We shall see.

I'm supposed to start thinking about books and dates for next year's delivery. Hmmm. Got any ideas????

Tweaked!

Well, PJ and Ally have been tweaked and sent winging their way back to England. Whew.

It wasn't difficult -- not like rewriting the basic premise of Spence and Sadie was. Not like a few books I remember less than fondly who seemed to need wholesale gutting and restuffing. No, PJ and Ally were far easier.

I liked the revision letter. It told me that my editor understood them and was on my wavelength. A nice place to have her, believe me. So her suggestions were, as they say, 'spot on.' She understood what I was trying to do, and helped me do it even better. So, thanks, Ed. I hope you enjoy them 'tweaked' as much as I enjoyed tweaking them.

Now I've got Christmas to see to. And a tree to trim and baking to do. And housecleaning. Oh, my, yes. And snow shoveling because for some reason the weather hereabouts (all snow and ice and freezing rain) has decided it likes it here and is planning to stay.

All I have to say is, "It better not be here next Saturday." Next Saturday it better be wonderful and clear -- here and in Denver and where my son and daughter-in-law and the world's most wonderful four month old granddaughter live. Because we want no hitches getting them here.

Cross your fingers, okay? You can still wrap presents and bake cookies and sing carols. But you need to keep your fingers crossed while you do it. I'll cross mine for you and yours, too.

A Baby For Christmas

I wrote a book called A Baby For Christmas a few years back. It was all about the unexpectedness of a baby on a doorstep -- or a veranda in this case -- and what happened next.

It was a lot of fun to write, and at this time of year I get nostalgic for babies at Christmas -- even fictional ones.

I hadn't planned on having one of our own.

And technically, we don't. But that's only if you define Christmas narrowly, as in "December 25th."

We're not narrow constructionists. Around our house Christmas is expandable.

And to our delight our newest granddaughter, Ellie, is coming in 10 days for a holiday visit!

It was a serendipitous spur of the moment sort of thing. We certainly hadn't planned it. We'd expected we wouldn't see her or any of the out-of-state family this year. Then we got one of those 'weekend fare' emails that announce flights from nowhere to nowhere.

Only this time they had a flight going from Somewhere to Very-Nearly-Here! I couldn't believe my eyes. Not only that, but affordable, too.

And so Ellie -- and her parents -- are coming for Christmas (actually from the 15th to the 18th). But that works for us. We can hardly wait.

I'll have to have the revisions done by the end of the week so I can put up the tree and start getting the house ready for the early Christmas holiday!

Christmas Recipes

In my current book-free state I have been contemplating Christmas recipes. This began when Anne Gracie asked me about which recipe I thought she should make for a certain occasion.

It snowballed from there.

Well, here it snowballed. In Australia, I gather, it would be sizzling instead. Even I, who grew up in California, have trouble imagining a Christmas where things routinely melt. We never melted at Christmas. Though it wasn't ever really "cold" on the coast, it was often damp and shivery all the way to the bone.

Anyway, the discussion of recipes, and the arrival of two of her best for me to experiment with, has led me to contemplate my own favorite Christmas recipes.

There is a date bar recipe of my mother's I'm very fond of (and which the family story reminds me that when my mom sent them to my stepdad's grandmother for Christmas the first year they were married, she got a lovely note back thanking her for the little meat pies). Then there's her lemon bars recipe. And the spritz recipe from the spritz maker gizmo, and the cut-out Christmas cookies with the bit of orange peel and mace.

And just last week we made the orange-cranberry cookies which I suggested to Anne would make brilliant Christmas cookies, only to discover that Australia doesn't do cranberries. At least not fresh ones. Poor deprived people. I don't suppose they get the same effect using Vegemite.

So . . . this brings me to a question.

What are your favorite Christmas recipes -- for cookies or for whatever else you habitually make at this time of year?

I need to start thinking about getting these things done because soon there will be revisions. And I should take advantage of the time I have now. I'll be making my traditional cookies and breads and other goodies. But I like to broaden my horizons.

So share your best recipes, please. I could use some great new ideas to add to the ones I make year after year.

Free Time

I can't remember the last time I had any 'free time' -- that lovely unstructured resource that I love so much. But I have some now.

At least until tomorrow morning. Or whenever my editor comes back to me with revisions, suggestions, comments or, God forbid, "this sucks."

So I'm relishing being free to clean my office if I want (and whether I want to or not, the office needs it), paint our bedroom (ditto), bake Christmas cookies and freeze them, go shopping (once or twice, but mostly online), have a friend or two over for tea, take the dogs for longer than usual walks, and read books.

The TBR pile (that's to-be-read for those who don't have one) is sky high. But I just got to read the Regency Christmas anthology from Signet and enjoyed the stories there. That's a yearly ritual. I'm looking forward to a re-read of Loretta Chase's Lord of Scoundrels when it comes out next week. I, among others, adore that story. But my copy went to someone else to read and hasn't ever come back. So I'm getting a new one. I have several more I'll talk about as I finish them, provided I have time to.

It's good to be home. Thanksgiving in Texas was terrific. We never ran into crowds at the airport (once we stopped being fogged in). We had great connections, great games of monopoly, a great gingerbread house, some relatively painless Black Friday shopping (always interesting as long as you're not in a hurry), lots of good football (Go, Packers!), and a fabulous dinner, not to mention plenty of quality time with daughter and son-in-law and Glowkid.

We even decorated the Christmas tree before we left because they did it early this year so we could be part of it -- and they are going to swim with dolphins the week before Christmas and then to Missouri for Christmas with the other side of the family, so getting the tree at home early seemed like a good idea so they'd have time to enjoy it. And we got to enjoy it, too.

I think we should have carved a pumpkin and dyed a few Easter eggs, too. But in general a good time was had by all.

Couldn't have been better (even the fog didn't cause problems really because we then went to a different airport, got a non-stop and had no hassles at all).

When You're Making Other Plans . . .

Fog, that's what happens.

So we are still here -- waiting to go there -- along with literally millions of other people.

Now we are scheduled to go tomorrow afternoon from another airport about 2 hours from here.

That's the downside. The upside is that it's a non-stop to DFW, so provided the plane flies we will not be bogged down in a hub someplace -- or if we are it will be because we've been diverted and that will be a whole new downside we aren't even contemplating at this point.

My theory about airline travel (and any other sort for that matter) is that it's a whole different sort of time entirely. I suppose it's like "dreamtime" -- though not meaning the same thing. It's a sort of "time" which you step into when you leave wherever you're leaving from, and until you get off at the other end, you're in "travel time" and "real normal time" as we know it ceases to exist.

What is "travel time?" Time when you have no control, you can't plan, you are herded about like a sheep (Eamon, where are you?). And all you can do is take along a good book and go with the flow.

Generally I have no problem with this. Today, for example, it didn't bother me a bit to be told we couldn't go. Any idiot could see we couldn't go.

When I get annoyed is when it's clearly a matter of choice for the airline to muck up peoples' lives. Ordinarily they don't.

But last year they did when they knew perfectly well that a three hour late arriving flight the night before was going to mean that the crew couldn't fly at the very early scheduled time in the morning (there's a rule that says they have to have 8 hours between these flights to sleep). So everyone who had a connection missed it.

The airline people knew this the night before. But they didn't bother to tell anyone not to come at the regular time. They also didn't bother to start booking people on new flights until we'd reached Denver where we sat for 16 hours as flight after flight was already "full."

There were any number of ways they could have made things go more smoothly. They didn't bother. And they didn't even seem to care. Fog doesn't bother me. Disservice to customers does. I don't fly that airline as often as I used to. And it's never my first choice. I'm sure they don't care, but I'm sorry they don't.

But I'm not flying that airline tomorrow -- and it's still going to be a good Thanksgiving.

Life After Book

There is indeed a life AB (after book).

In fact, it's quite a lovely life for the most part. There are things to do that have needed to be done for aaaaagggggeeeeessss. And I'm beginning to get some of them done. There are books to read -- I'm getting one or two of them read. There are places to go . . .

I'm leaving for Texas tomorrow.

When children spread themselves around the country, the chances of ever getting all of them in one place for anything short of a wedding are pretty much nil. So we have been taking our chances, getting one here and one there. And generally we've been spending Thanksgiving with friends and neighbors and people we find without a place to go.

But this year we are going to Texas to visit our daughter and her husband and GlowKid. We did it four years ago and had a great time with them. One of our sons came then, too. He won't be there this year. But I just saw him in Washington state.

We're looking forward to the visit. I'm taking cranberries. In a bag. So I can make the cranberry sauce when I get there. I might bake some pumpkin bread tomorrow if I have time. I'm busy changing the sheets on the bed so the dog sitter can have a place of his own uncovered by dog hair (for the first instant anyway). And I'm going to enjoy kicking back and relaxing while I'm there.

I'm not exactly looking forward to the trip -- flying on holidays is not my favorite pastime. I rather feel like my youngest son does: I love being different places. I just don't much like having to get there.

Oh well. It beats staying up all night to work on the book.

I wish you all a happy and blessed Thanksgiving. May you, even if you don't celebrate the holiday in your country, at least stop and reflect on the things you have to be thankful for.

Among my many blessings, I'm thankful for all of you.