Sunrise, Sunset

Lately, the song Sunrise, Sunset from The Fiddler on the Roof has been playing in my mind.

 Is this the little girl I carried? Is this the little boy at play? I don’t remember growing older. When did they?

 When did she get to be a beauty? When did he grow to be so tall? Wasn’t it yesterday when they were small?

Sunrise, sunset. Sunrise, sunset. Swiftly fly the years. One season following another. Laden with happiness and tears…

I guess I’m feeling nostalgic because another milestone is approaching. Eighteen years ago this week I set out on the greatest journey of my life. A baby boy came into the world, and he became my world.

 

Sunrise, sunset, and my beautiful baby became a rambunctious little boy. So many memories fill my mind, this week. Sunny Sunday afternoons when we’d take his little red wagon along the bicycle trail, hunting for crickets and grasshoppers and acorns. Rainy days spent inside making puppets and endless hours of playing Batman until I thought I’d lose my mind. Oh, but I’d take those days back in a minute…

Sunrise, sunset. There were Easter egg hunts, Halloween costumes, Christmas trees and birthday parties. I watched his Little League and La Crosse games.I sat in the auditorium and listened with pride as he read his prize-winning essay. And before I knew it, my little boy was a teenager.

I remember the day he took his driver’s test. I watched as he and the instructor drove off in my car. I waited what seemed an eternity for them to return, not certain whether I wanted the news to be pass or fail. Because in my mind, driving meant driving away…

The journey has not always been easy. The road has not always been smooth. I have not always done the right thing, but I always did the very best I could. I hope he knows that. This week my little boy turns eighteen, and I hope he knows how proud I am of the young man he has become. And that no matter how many years come and go, he will always be my little boy.

Happy Birthday, Noah James. Your mother loves you more than you could know.

Signs of Spring

It’s been a long, cold winter here in western New York. The kind of blustery, bone-chilling winter that starts in early November and makes you cancel your outdoor plans, and throw on an extra sweater, and look longingly through your collection of garden planners. It was the kind of winter that makes you feel like it will be winter for ever and spring will never come again.

We got our first reprieve yesterday, when temperatures soared to 65 degrees. It was wall-to-wall sunshine, and it felt wonderful! Yesterday I noticed a pair of blue birds hovering around the nest box. When I went outside last evening to investigate, I saw that the female had placed precisely two sprigs of pine needles inside the box. Today, when I arrived home from work, I went out to check again. Mama has had a busy day!

Touring the yard, I saw the beginnings of the sixty-five tulips I planted last fall poking up through the ground. Discovering a patch of crocuses nearby, I hurried inside to get my camera…

 

It made me really happy to see this little honey bee taking advantage of the warm weather and finding nourishment in the crocuses. And who doesn’t love these guys!

 

Though the temperatures today didn’t come close to the mid-sixties we had yesterday, and there are snow flurries in the forecast for tomorrow, these signs of spring, these lovely gifts of nature, give me hope that indeed, spring really is on its way.

Coming Soon!

When I set out, more than twelve months ago, to write the third installment in my Love on the Lake series, I had no idea what an undertaking it woud be. Aside from the usual distractions of work, running a household, and being a mother, life got in the way in some very unforseen ways. There were family illnesses, personal illnesses, financial difficulties, and even some broken bones. There were happy distractions, too, as my son entered his senior year of high school. There were senior portraits to sit for, varsity sports competitions to cheer at, and colleges to look into. That being said, Sunset Cove was a very challenging book to write. As much as I enjoyed creating these characters and their stories, it took a lot of time and perseverence to get from Chapter One to those glorious words, “The End.” Thanks for your patience, dear readers. I hope you will think Sunset Cove was worth the wait!

Sunset Cove

When the undercover drug operation he is in charge of goes horribly wrong, New York City police officer Chase Alexander turns in his badge and returns to his hometown of Sunset Cove, an emotionally bankrupt man. Desperate to put the past behind him, he takes a job as manager at Shadow Lake Campground and tries to get on with his life. But when the Shadow Lake community is plagued by a rash of drug-related burglaries, Chase feels compelled to get involved, hoping his success in eliminating the drug threat from his home town will help him come to terms with his past failures. He enlists the help of Lacy Kennedy, the beautiful, headstrong waitress at the local diner. She reluctantly agrees to be his eyes and ears in the community, unaware that Chase has a hidden agenda, that she is, in part, the reason for his return. For little does Lacy know that it is only in helping to make her dreams come true that Chase can truly redeem himself.

 On the other side of the lake …

Life has not always been easy for Polly Church. The young bride of an abusive husband, she spent her life living in fear, never knowing the meaning of true love. Freed from Benny’s cruelty by his death, sixty-year-old Polly finally finds peace. A certified wildlife rehabilitator, she lives out her retirement years in her secluded cottage on Shadow Lake, taking pleasure in the blue birds that share her four country acres. But Polly’s placid existence is shattered when she finds herself faced with the challenge of raising her drug addict sister’s teenaged daughter, Wendy. As her relationship with Wendy deteriorates and her health unexpectedly falls apart, Polly finds solace in her lifelong friend, Sammy Delaney. When Sammy hints that he would like more than friendship, Polly is reluctant to take a chance on romance. But though it sometimes arrives when least expected, Polly learns that love always arrives when it is needed the most. With Sammy’s help, Polly discovers hope, wholeness, and the healing power… of love on the lake.

Sunset Cove, Book #3 in the Love on the Lake series coming soon!

Time

A few weeks ago I posted one of my favorite poems on my website:

 I shall not pass this way again

Through this toilsome world, alas!

Once and only once I pass

If a kindness I may show

If a good deed I may do

To a suffering fellow man

 Let me do it while I can

No delay, for it is plain

I shall not pass this way again.

–Author Unknown

I’ve been thinking a lot about that poem, about all of the acts of kindness and good things I could have done in 2010, and for whatever reason, didn’t. If I could change one thing about myself in 2011, it would be that. If I could change one thing about me, I’d become the kind of person who takes the time.

I’d take the time to tell someone when they look really fabulous, even if I’m feeling jealous.

I’d take the time to have lunch with a friend, and ask about her life, and really listen to what she tells me. I’d plan that family get together, instead of just thinking about how nice it would be. I’d send that birthday card, that thank you note, I’d make that phone call.

At last year’s parent’s meeting, my son’s football coach said something that has stayed with me. He said, “I tell my men two words. If they can live by those two words, they will have success in every area of their lives.” The words? Do right.

 In 2011, I want to be a “Do Right” kind of person, because really, at the end of the year, and at the end of the day, it’s always better to say I’m glad I did than I wish I had. With that being said, I’d like to take a moment now to say to all of you, my readers, my family, and my friends, thanks. Your kindness and support means the world. You are appreciated more than you could know.

Happy 2011!

Jean

Autumn Treasures

What a welcome surprise, after a week of gray skies and rain, to wake up this morning to a sunny, sixty-degree day! Needless to say, as I sat on my porch with my pumpkin spice coffee, watching the leaves come down, my plans to spend the morning doing laundry went right out the window. It was just too nice a day to be inside, especially with the coming week’s forecast a little on the iffy side. 

With pumpkins on my mind, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and headed up the hill to Jenkin’s Farm Market, one of my very favorite places. When I arrived, I allowed myself the pleasure of getting lost in their gorgeous selection of mums, finally selecting pots of deep burgundy, variegated rust and gold, and my all time favorite pale salmon. With that decided, I moved on to their wagonful of pumpkins.

The nice summer weather yielded a better crop this year than last, and I’ll admit I had some trouble deciding. Especially since one of the items on My50List is “carve a pumpkin,” something I haven’t done since my son was ten or eleven. Decorating with pumpkins is one thing, but choosing a Jack O’ Lantern is quite another. You have to study each one carefully to get a feel for the kind of face you wish to create. Since I’d already decided my Jack would be the wide-eyed, smiling variety, this large, plump oval seemed the perfect choice.

 

On my way back down Stony Brook hill I spied a farmer set up with an unusual display of gourds. I chose a pretty, large white one and another of the warty, green and yellow striped variety. The farmer also had a great selection of home grown veggies, and I couldn’t pass up a couple of quarts of salt potatoes. Mmmmm! 

Back home, I wasted no time in carving my pumpkin. I took him outside and arranged him, along with my other autumn treasures, into my flower cart. 

 

The fall air was so revitalizing that I even had the energy to tackle that mountain of laundry!

Tulips!

When I moved to the country, nine years ago, I was thrilled at the prospect of having five whole acres in which to play. When I started to envision garden spots, the empty space at the edge of my driveway seemed like a logical first step. With full sun for most of the day, it was the perfect place for planting spring flowers. After looking through dozens of gardening catalogues, I finally decided to order a complete spring garden: mixed tulips, sunny daffodils, delicate hyacinth. When my order arrived, I pulled on my garden gloves and went to work, painstakingly following the directions as I planted the 150 mixed bulbs, visions of springtime glory dancing in my head. That night, I had unexpected company in the form of a hungry skunk and the next morning my vision was shattered when I discovered 100 empty holes where my beautiful bulbs had been. It was a hard lesson learned.

Thankfully, all was not lost, and my ten surviving tulip bulbs have, over the last nine years, multiplied into twenty-some. I have gone on to add lilies, lupins, and gaillardia for a colorful, season-long parade of blooms. But recently, I revisited my vision of a lovely spring garden, and added “Plant 50 Tulips” to My 50 List. To make sure I did it, I mail-ordered two collections of bulbs, a mix of traditional red and yellow Dutch tulips, as well as a pretty, pastel mix. As of last week, they still hadn’t arrived. Impatient, I went to Wal Mart and bought a couple of collections to get me started. I love the gorgeous double tulips, almost peony like in their size and shape, so I picked up a set of those in mixed colors, along with a collection of regular bulbs in a shade of pale apricot. Today was a beautiful day for planting, so I took my bags of bulbs out front and got started. Back to school now, with limited time for gardening, I’ve missed the feel of soil beneath my hands, so I worked without my gloves. When I had my bulbs all planted and watered, I gave the area a liberal shot of Repels All to ward off those hungry skunks!

Opening the package of apricot bulbs, I changed my mind about planting them in the front garden and moved to the little flower cart bed beside my blue bird house. I didn’t have any spring bulbs planted there, so hopefully this April I will have a profusion of lovely tulips to kick off the blooming season. I’ll let you know!

This summer, in my bird watching adventures, I noticed the distinct absence of blue jays in my yard. Despite their bad reputation for terrorizing smaller birds and hogging the bird feeders, I’ve always liked these beautiful, blustering birds with their magnificent blue coats and black collars so I welcomed this sassy visitor who sat in the pine trees, scolding me while I worked!

Baby Love

Back in April, a house sparrow got inside my blue bird house and killed all four baby blue birds. The site of those poor, defenseless, featherless babies was one of the saddest things I have encountered to date.

When the blue birds returned, a few weeks later, and began to build a new nest, I was both hopeful and dismayed. For weeks, I have worried and fretted over the blue bird babies as if they were my own children. I have stood at the window, obsessing, binoculars in hand, and watched the process every step of the way with no small amount of pride and delight. The nest building. The egg laying, and within the last three weeks, the feeding.

When the first egg had been laid, I put up a sparrow spooker to keep those heartless competitors away from “my” nest box. When I saw them nearby, I ran outside to shoo them away. Knowing I could not guard the birdhouse 24:7, I prayed to God for the baby blue birds’ safekeeping. Morning and evening I stood beneath the bird house, my heart thrilling to the unmistakable sound of their peeping.

Each summer I have the task of painting the deck on the back of my house and since it was a bright, sunny morning, today seemed a good day to start. But first, I went out front to make my rounds. I noticed Mama blue bird acting peculiarly. She sat on a telephone wire above, letting me know in no uncertain terms that my presence wasn’t welcome. I cautiously approached the bird house and there, in the shade of the weeping crab tree, I discovered my pay day. The first fledgling had left the nest! I grabbed my camera, snapped this photo, and then left mother alone to show her baby the ropes.

The first fledgling

Throughout the morning I couldn’t resist peeking into the front yard to see what they were up to. The baby seemed content to sit in the sun, occasionally ruffling his feathers as Mama stood guard. Around noon, with the deck painting well underway, I decided to take a break. After lunch, I went out to the front yard to check on baby’s progress and discovered he was gone. I immediately began to fret, thinking of all the possible scenarios. I thought of slithery snakes, and hungry stray cats on the prowl. Had he somehow gotten into the road? Had some evil hawk come along and carried him away? I did a thorough check of the yard, looking under every bush and shrub. Not finding him anywhere, I sent up a last prayer for his safekeeping and went out back to finish my deck.

Sweet surprise!

Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor?

Cross My Heart

I’ve known for quite some time that I was going to have to replace the old bird house. The wood is rotting. The roof is leaky. The floor is weather-beaten to the point that the whole house pitches precariously to the left. Still … I couldn’t bear the thought of taking it down.

This old house

I received this lovingly handcrafted bird house as a birthday gift several years ago. When I bought my country home, seven years ago, I put it up in the front yard, thinking it would make a wonderful decoration. Little did I know the joy the house would bring me as it sat on its post year after year, lending shelter to countless families of blue birds. Replacing it was going to take something mighty special.

 Last Sunday I happened off the beaten path to Wallace, NY where I came across a shop called Cross My Heart. I really didn’t have time to stop. I was on my way to Bath, where I was supposed to meet someone at 4:00. From Wallace, that would be a ten minute drive and it was already 3:45. But when I saw the charming display of bird houses out front, I simply couldn’t resist. Five minutes, I told myself. Just a peek and then I’ll be on my way. Sometimes you find the most wonderful treasures in the most unlikely places, and with Cross My Heart, that was definitely the case. My five minutes were up before I even made it through the front door!

Outside Cross My Heart

The sign out front says 100 Bird houses and that is surely an understatement. The shop is chock-full of handmade birdhouses of every kind. There were houses for wrens and for blue birds, for chickadees and for purple martins. Some were large homes, and some, apartment sized. Some were hand painted with quilt pieces, and some adorned with whimsical antiques, such as door knobs and old fashioned faucets. But all are hand crafted, and all made with love by the owner, Diane Rivers. One thing is for certain, no bird is left behind at Cross My Heart!

Inside Cross My Heart

Diane greeted me with a smile when I walked in. As I browsed, we chatted about birdhouses and shared our birding experiences and I discovered a kindred spirit in this lovely, knowledgeable lady. With so many choices and so little time, I left empty handed. That time. But today I returned and selected a treasure of my own. The card attached to it said: “I do like this horrible ugly tongue-in-groove that was a door stored in the upstairs of K. Teters’ barn, Bath, NY. The roof is from a 200 year-old barn in Atlanta, NY.”

Crafted with love

This fall, when the last of the blue bird babies have flown away, I will finally take down the old house and replace it with the new one, which is not only a blue bird house, but a piece of local history. It will be a place where new families are nurtured, and new memories made. And that’s something I can definitely feel good about!

Garbage Plates, Lilacs and Books, Oh My!

My friend, Loretta, is visiting from England. With just two and a half short days to spend together before she heads off to NY City, I wanted to try and give her a sampling of what our little corner of the world has to offer. The Lilac Festival seemed a logical place to start, so on Friday morning we set off for Rochester, where we enjoyed a stroll through Highland Park. Though many of the lilacs had come and gone, the ones that remained gave it their all. The scent was heavenly.

A mind-boggling amount of food choices made it difficult to decide on lunch; Italian sausage? Gyros? Roasted turkey legs? I decided Loretta couldn’t leave Rochester, New York without sampling a Zweigle’s hot dog, so in the end, we went for a couple of garbage plates. I joked with her that she could go back to the UK and tell her pals that she came to America and paid $8 for a plate of garbage. And enjoyed every bite!

On Saturday I wanted to show off our gorgeous countryside, so we ventured to Ontario County to the Hamlet of Honeoye. Our destination; Mackerel Sky Books and More.

What a treasure Mackerel Sky turned out to be! Sunshine streamed through the oversized windows, casting its cheerful rays across paintings by local artists and shelves and shelves of books. Carol, the store’s owner, stocks many of the latest fiction and non- fiction titles, as well as a nice selection of “twice touched” treasures.

I think Loretta is going to need a bigger suitcase!

Carol has even been kind enough to reserve shelf space for the works of yours truly.

This is a book lover’s paradise, so when you visit, you’ll want to give yourself plenty of time to browse. As an added bonus, Mackerel Sky’s next door neighbor is a delightful place called the Red Coyote Coffee Shop.

With its warm autumn colors and the luscious aroma of specialty coffees hanging in the air, the Red Coyote beckons its guests to linger at its charming tables painted with checkerboards. And linger we did. I indulged in a cup of Hazelnut coffee while Loretta enjoyed a cappuccino and a pastry. All in all it was a fabulous day.

As I watch Loretta board the train this morning, bound for the hustle and bustle of New York City, I hope she has enjoyed her visit to our little corner of the world. I hope she has collected some lovely memories to take back home, along with her books and her cakes of lilac soap.

New Review for Whispers in Autumn at Night Owl Romance!

I’m so pleased with all of the positive reviews WHISPERS IN AUTUMN is garnering. This one just came in from Night Owl Romance…

Dove Denning is a paranormal expert and has just got out of a murder investigation. She is now planning on attending a wedding of someone she knows at Shadow Lake. After spending a bit of time in the town she meets a man named Dusty. They start hanging around each other and start to do stuff together. Dove finally tells him about her physic abilities but he is in doubt and there is more than that.  Dove talks about her visions and about her being able to see and talk with ghosts.  Dusty tells Dove about his dead daughter. Sparks start between these two as they learn more about each other. Whispers in Autumn is a feel good story that has very interesting characters. The sweet progression of Dusty and Dove’s relationship was enchanting. The supernatural parts were a nice addition and flowed well. But overall it is the characters who will be remembered in this fantastic read.Rating: 4.25 Stars