A Poem: Symphony in D Minor

Every month or so, my friend Nancy and I attend a symphony concert. We have season tickets and make it a true girls-day out with lunch and shopping. Last Sunday, the "Ooh La La..." French tribute featured Mathieu and Franck, with a breathtaking encore by pianist Alain Lefevre that he composed to honor his wife, saying it was because of her he is the pianist he is. Sigh.

And Santa Barbara's poet laureate came on stage to read his lovely poem. It was a glorious day of perfect winter weather, California-style, with blue sky and crisp air and snowy mountains ringing the coastal plain...our favorite eggplant quesadillas, and fabulous finds at our favorite boutique.

All in all, a day to remember. I don't think Mr. Starkey would mind a bit, my sharing his poem with you.

Symphony in D Minor

There is no sadness that cannot be softened by music.
At night, alone before the fireplace, shadows flickering

their insistent Nothing will save you, the pizzicato
strings suggest otherwise. Though the whole

complex apparatus of living tip over in a tangle
of gears and wire, the bass clarinet's regal

molto crescendo recommends an alternative
to silent brooding and a tumbler of single malt

Scotch. Even the English horn, that doleful
instrument, reminds us that the dutiful

sun will eventually pierce the fog-laden morning.
Happiness nearly always comes without warning:

we suddenly recall the bucket of dahlias
somewhere in the house-vermillion and fuchsia

and shocking pink-the dog wags her tail.
Success is mere abstraction, and failure

needn't harm us. What we seek is what will last,
as long as we heed the tempo: fast, but not too fast.

~David Starkey
Santa Barbara Poet Laureate
January 2010

(Mr. Starkey has published several books of poetry and more than 400 poems in
literary journals around the world. He directs the Creative Writing Program at Santa
Barbara City College and currently serves as Santa Barbara's third Poet Laureate, with a term running from 2009-2011.)

Cruisin'...tasting the grape in Ensenada

Current read: Daniel's Bride, by Linda Lael Miller

Such a fun time, four days at sea with my gal-pals. No worries, no cares, good wine and too much food. We took a shore tour of the wine country outside Ensenada, Mexico and found a little piece of Tuscany...mild weather, olive groves and vineyards.

I came home to four days of plunging rain, a weekend with my grandbaby, and a plethora of final edits. Yay! This all means I have books coming up and friends and family who love me.

What could be better than that?

Weekend Recipe: Crunchy Romaine Toss

CRUNCHY ROMAINE TOSS (and some non edible sunflowers to brighten your day!

Mix together: (Use a cup with lid and shake)
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup cider vinegar
2 teaspoons soy sauce
salt and pepper to taste

Brown:
1 package Ramen noodles (discard seasoning packet or use some other way)
in 2 TBLS butter

Add the above to salad just before tossing:
1 1/2 cups chopped fresh broccoli
1 small bunch Romaine lettuce, chopped
4 green onions, chopped
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Hint: Smash the noodles with a hammer inside the package before browning. Enjoy!

Marrying Mattie...and mammatus clouds

Current read: Daniel's Bride, by Linda Lael Miller

My pal Nancy is a Nebraska native who often fills my head with family lore or local color. When she described "boob clouds" during a summer visit to her homeland, I knew I had to include such a weather phenomena somewhere in a romance.

And so I did. In the upcoming Marrying Mattie, undulating clouds make an appearance in a tornado scene...when Mattie and Call take shelter in an abandoned shack. Aw, ya'll know what happens next. Sigh.

(No. They don't end up in Kansas.)

Thought you might like to see some. I think they are most aptly named...

Finding Serenity...in New Hampshire

Current read: Daniel's Bride, by Linda Lael Miller.
Just finished: The Vampire Diaries/The Struggle, by L.J. Smith, A

Here I am at Serenity Falls at Castle of the Clouds, eccentric bazillionaire Thomas Plant's summer estate built around 1914 above Lake Winnepasaukee on an ancient volcanic caldera. You get a 270 degree view of lake and mountains.

Not long after our dream trip to New England in 2007, I needed all the serenity I could get. Two years ago this very day my hubby's battle against testicular cancer began.

I still get shivers.

I often used pictures and memories from those lovely days on the East Coast to ease my mind during his harrowing ordeal.

Praise to our dear and generous Lord. My sweetheart is 21 months cancer free!

Weekend Recipe: My Aunt Grace's Killer Banana Bread

Current read: The Vampire Diaries/The Struggle, by L.J. Smith
This past Christmas, as gifts for our neighbors, I baked up batches of this delish bread in loaf pans I got at the dollar store, then wrapped it up in sparkly plaid dish towels also from said store. You can make boy bread (with nuts) if you want.

1/2 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
3 medium mashed bananas
2 cups flour
1 tsp. soda

Cream shortening and sugar and add eggs, and cream together well. Sift flour and soda together. Fold flour and bananas into mixture. (Optional: add 1/4 cup nuts.)

Bake in greased loaf pan 1 hour at 325 degrees F.

Enjoy!

News and Notes...

I have been busy, and I love it. A major excitement happened in November when I was selected to contribute to the 2010 Christmas Anthology, Lawmen and Outlaws. It was terrific fun writing a Christmas romance during the holidays.

We've just done the first-round edits and I admit, I enjoy re-reading it. "Canyon Jack" Ransom is such a bad boy. And Eliza Willows, no rule-followin' female herself, tames him just fine in Christmas for Ransom. I'll be posting an excerpt soon.

Even with all that excitement going on, I had heartbreaking news that my incredible editor is leaving the profession to concentrate on her own writing career. I wish her well but will miss her terribly. We're still together while we finish Marrying Mattie, but that's almost in the can. Sigh.

For a pre-quel to Marrying Mattie, why not download my 2008 Christmas story, His Christmas Angel, " This short story introduced Mattie and shows how she met the love of her life. It's free! You see now how they get together. Later, the longer novel will show you just what calamities keep them apart. Come on! It's free!

Flutter by...Pismo Beach

Current read: The Vampire Diaries: The Struggle, by L.J. Smith
Just finished: The Twilight Before Christmas, by Christine Feehan, B

Today in our garden, a monarch butterfly flitted around so quick I couldn't get much of a look. I wasn't at all surprised. Hundreds of Lepidoptera just like him/her, which can't survive in harsh weather, migrate to the California coast during the late fall, and "overwinter" in the gentler climes.

At a park near my home, a barranca filled with silvery green eucalyptus wears dim, homely brown clusters of closed-up butterflies all night. They actually look like clumps of dead leaves. Until the morning temperature gets to about 55 degrees. Then the beauties warm up, wake up, and party on.

I saw thousands of my butterfly's relatives recently at their main stomping ground, the Pismo Beach eucalyptus groves. The trees offer shelter from wind and provide foliage that's easy for the butterflies to grasp. And when the morning warms up, it's kinda like big orange snowflakes.

A piece of heaven on earth for a brief space of time.

It's 70 degrees at my homestead....

Current read: Twilight before Christmas, Christine Feehan
Just finished: Vampire Diaries: The Awakening, LJ. Smith, A

Here's an ode to all my Nebraska friends, freezing and buried in the white stuff...thank you, Mary Conneally.

It's winter in Nebraska
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At thirty-five below.

Oh, how I love Nebraska
When the snow's up to your butt
You take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.

Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around
I could never leave Nebraska
I'm frozen to the ground!

Author Unknown

A Wild West Christmas...twelve days long

Currently reading: The Vampire Diaries by L.J. Smith
Just finished: When Christmas Comes by Debbie Macomber A++++

Merry Christmas!

What? That's like, five days ago.

But did you know Christmas has long been celebrated for twelve days afterward, until the Feast of the Magi, or Epiphany, on January 6? I'm so happy the Hallmark Channel is still showing Christmas flicks this week and our cable system's "Sounds of the Season" is still belting out carols full force. So much better than the Los Angeles station that started playing Christmas music mid-November, non-stop, 24/7...only to cease cold turkey at 12:01 a.m. December 26. Grrrrrrrrrrrr. And all the marathons of White Christmas, Christmas Vacation, Home Alone and A Christmas Story stopped then too.

In fact, if you want the true meaning of the Twelve Days (it is NOT those twelve gimmicky shopping days beforehand), get on over to my recent blog at Petticoats and Pistols to learn the secret, sacred symbolism behind all the French hens and those maids a'milking.

That blogging day, I asked readers to help me re-write the classic Christmas carol, and here's what we composed: (No symbolism; we just had fun.)

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...a roadrunner in a pinon pine tree.

...Two blue jays squawking,
...Three crows cawing,
...Four calves a-bawling,
...Five jangling spurs,
...Six cowgirls roping,
...Seven tumbleweeds a'tumbling,
...Eight pioneers a camping,
...Nine broncos bucking,
...Ten cowboys singing,
...Eleven roosters crowing,

And I just couldn't decide on the last one. Take your pick. They're all great.

Twelve stallions leaping
Twelve Texans twanging
Twelve riders riding
Twelve fillies rhyming
Twelve coyotes howling.

Point is. It's still Christmas!

A Very Merry Christmas, and God Bless Us All, Everyone

Just finished: The Forgetful Bride, by Debbie Macomber, C-


It's that time of year when...I'm running out of time. But I love it! Bought out the dollar stores yesterday with stocking stuffers...have the cul-de-sac party on Saturday for which I make my famous mac and cheese. Best of all, Hubby's gift arrived by FedEx at a time when I could actually keep it a secret

There's shopping, baking for the neighbors, and tons of wrapping ahead all the while I'm finishing my next-year's holiday novella, Christmas for Ransom, and finishing the edits for Marrying Mattie. BTW, Marrying Minda could be the answer to your question about what to get for that special person. Available both print and e-form at The Wild Rose Press

And my short story His Christmas Angel (the prequel to next year's Marrying Mattie) is a FREE download at Wild Rose! Doesn't get much better than free!

Hope you enjoy the hottie cowboy. Off to pen the Christmas letter now, and no, it's not one of those obnoxious braggy ones. Just a quick sentence about each one of us.

Once again, God bless you all, every one.

P.s. The George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol is far and away the very best.

I'll Be your Huckleberry...

Current read: Home for the Holidays, by Debbie Macomber

One of the greatest books of all time, Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, was published on this date in 1885 in Canada and England. It wasn't released for two months in the United States and has been in trouble ever since.

Ernest Hemingway declared it the "one book" from which "all modern American literature" came. Too true. Heretofore, all great works by American authors had bitten off from European counterparts. But this one, crammed full of local color, written in the regional dialogue of the time (which makes it the bane of students), showcasing a true if nasty art of American culture (slavery), set on a river like none other in the world, is indeed the first and the best. Contemporary critics and scholars have treated it as one of the greatest American works of art.
Why is in trouble? Well, mostly the whiners are people who haven't read it. They don't like some of the common terms of the time--which are not used as derogatory in the book. (Besides, why do females get to be called bitches and ho's and nobody seems to sense a way double standard?)

Here's to you, Samuel Langhorne Clemens!

Always in My Heart...

Two years ago today my twin brother died. Cancer, ravenous, irrevocable, incurable. We got the dreaded news of his diagnosis on Mothers Day weekend, in a phone call at 8:30 p.m.--the time he always called, with a joke, news of his two daughters, plans for a get-together. All the stuff of real life. We never expected a death sentence.

But I believe in miracles and prayed for one. A transplant. Some magic experimental drugs. Which, truth to tell, there was one of the latter. (The former was impossible.) But the drug so compromised Mike's quality of life he said, no thanks, after several months of poison and misery.

In those last months, we danced together at niece Katie's wedding, myself in tears. The Beatles' "In My Life." There's nobody who compares to you, I wept into his shoulder.

I love your family like my own, Tonna. That was his special name for me. My son used it until he was about five, never calling me mommy.

With our spouses and closest friends, we did manage one last trip to Palm Springs, one of our favorite places, in July. Oh, the memories! Now, knowing what chemo does to the human body, I can only applaud Mike for his courage in accompanying us. I know now he was in hell much of the time.

Oh, I miss him every day. Every major event of my life, he was at my side. In some way, he still is. I know he was looking down and laughing with joy at Christi's wedding last August. That he sent me his love during those harrowing months of my hubby's chemo. But when the phone rings in the evening, my heart stops, and I wish things were different.

Because that was Mike's time, not some stupid "Unknown" junker that shows up on Caller ID.

I gave a talk at his graveside, and I managed laughter instead of tears. My hubby got up to speak, but just couldn't, awash in emotions. Our best man. Godfather to our son, an incredible uncle, father, husband...one month later, we got the horrific diagnosis of cancer ourselves.

In my life, Mike, there's nobody who compares to you.

Love always....

A blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours!

I'm a bird lover and a bird watcher, but there are two nasty territorial crows hanging around trying to scare off Rocket J., the darling squirrel who lives in one of our trees. So I need a scarecrow!

But I need little else. This is the time of giving thanks, and so I do. For my hubby in general, for his full health in particular. For two great kids who picked spouses who complete our family.

For the grandbaby who has totally stolen my heart.

For friends and neighbors who fill our days, and the Lord who sustains us.

For the memories of our sweet Labradors who left us all too soon.

For the loving and loved relatives who will join us on Thursday. They complete us too.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

Ps. The Tim McGraw concert totally rocked. I'll blog about it in depth soon at Petticoats and Pistols. Wait for it!

Live Like You Were Dying....

I haven't had that great of a start to today. I just found out my terrific editor is leaving the profession to concentrate on her own writing career. I can understand. As meticulous and gifted as she is with editing, it's got to take its toll on her creativity...and her time. We've still got one project we're working on together, and I know she's passing me on to good hands but...

....I'm broken hearted. As I told her, I can't decide if I want to cry or throw up.

To help me feel a bit better, though, I'm heading out in a bit for a Tim McGraw concert with my dear buddy Charlene Sands. I figure this is our sixth concert hunting him down LOL. He's not only a hottie, but the author of much of my life around here:

Live Like You Were Dying became one of our anthems during and since testicular cancer. My Little Girl is the beautiful, tear-jerking song our own little girl picked for her daddy-daughter dance at her wedding three months ago.

And My Old Friend brings to our heart and mind our own dearest friend, my twin brother Mike, who passed away two years ago come Christmas.

I fear I'll be plenty tearful during the concert, don't you?

Friday the Thirteenth...at Petticoats and Pistols

While you're here, why not click again and visit my take on cowboy boot lore and superstition over at the all-western site, Petticoats and Pistols! If you're wearing cowboy boots today, make sure they're old ones. New ones bring bad luck today!

And while you're there at Petticoats, don't forget to enter our Cowboy Under The Christmas Tree contest.

Before you go, got any superstitions to post for today?

Give a Vet a Hug Today...and every day...

A blessed day to those who serve and protect us. I myself am the wife, daughter, sister, niece, cousin, great-niece and great-great-great-granddaughter of U.S. veterans.

Daddy served as a translator/radioman in the Aleutian Islands in WWII. Hubby medic-ed in Germany. My great-uncle Albert died in The Great War. His remains didn't return home for three years, in time for my uncle/godfather to be named after him.

My great-great-great grampa marched with Tecumseh Sherman to the sea. Family lore says he got sidelined with illness before the burning of Atlanta. All right by me.

Veterans' Day started out in 1919, as Armistice Day, to honor the first anniversary of the end of "the war to end all wars." World War One. Ironic, isn't it? Less than 20 years later another one raged.

Truth to tell, have wars ever stopped?

In 1938, Armistice Day became a national holiday and was renamed Veterans Day in 1954 to honor all veterans from all wars, living and dead. Today there are 23.2 million veterans. Let's give them their due. Let's tend those in need.

After all, all gave some. Some gave all.

Thanks, veterans, for keeping us safe and free.

Lawmen and Outlaws, Christmas-style

Just finished: Painted Desert by Nancy J. Farrier, grade B+

Sincere thanks to Melinda Elmore for visiting my blog this past week! Good work, Melinda. Keep it up!

I was thrilled last Thursday to learn I will be part of the 2010 Christmas "Lawmen and Outlaws" anthology from The Wild Rose Press! Right now you can read about four hottie Wild West heroes and the women who tame them in the current "Lawmen and Outlaws" anthology, written by four of my "Cactus Rose" colleagues.

In my upcoming Christmas for Ransom, horsethief "Canyon" Jack Ransom finds himself guilt ridden after snatching the horseflesh of a sweet old lady rancher who reminds him too damn much of his own gram-maw. The old gal raised him best she could and extracted two promises from him on her deathbed...promises he has yet to keep.

Throw in the old rancher's granddaughter, Eliza, a beautiful schoolteacher whom Jack hires to teach him to read, a snorting outlaw gang reluctant to let Jack reform himself, and a blazing shootout, and all you have left is Jack and Eliza getting snowbound...just in time for Christmas.

I'll keep you posted.

Meet Melinda Elmore!

"This book shows that true love knows no physical or spiritual bounds and that destiny will always prevail." -----Wells Mahkee Jr., Managing Editor, Navajo/Hopi Observer


I’d like to introduce you today to fellow historical romance author, Melinda Elmore, who sets her stories in the 19th century native American cultures. Melinda is a writer, a wife, and the mother of two. Native Dreams reveals the turbulent times of the 1800s and the hardships of Native Americans. Melinda is a freelance writer for the Navajo/Hopi Observer in Flagstaff, Arizona.
Here’s an excerpt from her latest release, Native Dreams.

Precious Hawk is viciously taken from her people
and forced to live in the white world, causing
inner turmoil. Many years later, Cloud Feather, a
perfect stranger, arrives to work on her
husband’s ranch. Experience the “awe” when Cloud
Feather rescues his beloved Precious Hawk, who
has come to him in many of his dreams. His heart
is to return Precious Hawk to her ancestral lands where she rightly belongs.

On the run, the daring couple nearly lose their
lives. Cloud Feather is gravely wounded. He is
taken to his village in hope that Red Wing, their
medicine man, can save his life. All the while,
Precious Hawk is with child, Cloud Feather’s child.

But Precious Hawk knows the evilness of John
Altan. Will he ever leave her alone? No, not until he is dead.

The Great Spirit joins their love, faith keeps
their minds hopeful, and their spiritual guides deliver guidance.


Melinda, I love your cover and the names of your H and H. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

I have lived in Arizona and Tennessee. I have discovered wealth is not measured in how much money you have but in how much love you share.
I have been happily married to my wonderful husband, Tom for 22 years. I have two remarkable children, Shaelee and Erik.

As a young child, I loved reading and writing. Many nights I would wrap up in a blanket, daydream, while I turned the exciting pages of a book. The books would take me to many places. I loved the idea of going from the normal world in which I lived, then instantly I would be taken to a place far away.
To my surprise, I started writing and creating my very own world. A place where I could go and lose myself with just a pen and paper.

I grew up with the fascination of the American Indian. My love for them grew by leaps and bounds as I read about them from my history book. I wanted to show, in my writings, of the proud people that the American Indians truly are. They show honor and respect for all living things. If I can capture just a small portion of that in my writings then that would be an added bonus for me.

Native American Romance and Native American mysteries is my passion. I hope to reveal in my books the uniqueness of the American Indian. I feel truly blessed to try and reveal how special the American Indians truly are.

The love of my family and the love for the American Indian have become focal points in my stories. I will do my best for both of them. I sincerely pray readers enjoy the characters that I bring to life on each turning page!!!!

I promise, Melinda, we’ll enjoy those characters you bring to life, and the native cultures you so honor. Thanks for visiting my blog. Hope you visit me again soon!

Dia de la Muertos...the grateful dead

Hello! Happy Day of the Dead!

More than three thousand years ago, natives of today's Mexico mocked death in rituals honoring their goddess Mictecacihuatl during the month of today's August. Spanish explorers deemed the rites pagan and sacrilegious...but changed the dates to coincide with the Christian All Saints and All Souls Days, November 1 and 2, when the Aztec practice refused to die out.

Today, the holiday honors loved ones who have died, celebrating their lives with joy, special foods, and displays of their favorite things, on altars called ofrenda. Marigolds are the traditional flower and are even eaten in certain recipes.

I hope you'll join me on Wednesday, my regular blogging day at the all-Western romance site, Petticoats and Pistols, for a bit longer explanation on this fascinating holiday. Today, skulls are still an important part of the tradition, and but not with the grim gore of Halloween. Calacas and catrinas are usually depicted laughing and dancing, and kids enjoy eating sugar candy skulls.

I'm thinking of my dear, departed dad right now, with love and joy.