Liza Larkin is a pathology resident with a schizoid personality disorder that makes interacting with people very difficult. Liza’s mom, who has schizophrenia, lives in an institution. Her father, who provided her stability and unconditional love as she grew up, is dead. Now she relies on her psychiatrist, Dr. Lightfoot, to assist her in dealing with the difficulties of social relationships. Her father taught her well, but challenges to her preferred reclusiveness continually beset her. For these reasons, Liza seems like an unlikely warrior for justice; yet, she has a visceral antipathy toward injustice that compels her to help people she cares. She knowingly puts herself in danger for the sake of others.
In this second book of the series, Liza suspects that a friend’s aunt was murdered despite no evidence to support her suspicion. While sleuthing on her own, she’s challenged to keep a major research grant (and her professional future) from falling through the cracks while her preceptor copes with a family crisis. Liza also runs up against Chopper, a shady character from the previous novel, who threatens to blackmail her. She (and we) really don’t want to know how he got that nickname.
The story is told from Liza’s point-of-view so we only know what she knows, making this novel a thrilling puzzle. I felt I was right there alongside Liza, trying to figure out how her friend’s aunt might have been murdered and why. My only criticism of the novel is that Liza spends a lot of time ruminating, thinking through all the possibilities of whatever problem she’s trying to solve. There were a few moments when I wanted her to stop thinking and start doing, but those ruminations also offer a deep dive into Liza’s brain. She is highly intelligent, capable of incredible focus and memory retention. Yet, like other humans, she has her flaws and vulnerabilities. “Seeing” Liza socially mature and learn to ask for help as well as offer help is a real bonus. Rubin has a gift for character development and for keeping the reader on the edge of her seat. I am looking forward to more novels in this series.
You can find Malignant Assumptions at Amazon (print and Kindle versions) and Bookshop (print versions). Audio versions are available at Audible, Libro.fm, and Spotify.
Thank you for reading! Here’s your prize:
Raji curled up on one of my weird pillow creations.
At this time, I still don’t know if the year-long program with Summer Brennan on Substack will resume. A few weeks ago, one of our group reported that he had (finally) talked with Summer’s agent and was told that she was fine but dealing with a family tragedy. The relief that she was fine was palpable … even in an online group. But we are still in limbo, only being told that she planned to “update” us later, in the next session which starts September 1. And while that is tomorrow, my sixth sense tells me we will still be in limbo. And so the anxiety continues, especially among those who feel they should get a refund for the missed sessions. Lesson learned: Substack is not at all helpful in that regard. Firstly, the platform prefers that you work that out with the writer. Secondly, if the writer is incommunicado and you’ve paid for a full year (as I did), then there needs to be at least six months of inactivity in order for a refund to be considered. Not that I was planning to ask for a refund. Like I said, lesson learned.
Friendship
A friend mentioned in passing the other day how she was planning to go to Maui with a few girlfriends. It made me feel sad. I thought about when I last had a group of girlfriends. It was the early 80s and I remember four of us (including the above-mentioned friend) getting together at someone’s house. The four of us worked at the same engineering firm in California. I don’t remember where we were and why we were together but I do remember we had fun and it was a rare occurrence for me to enjoy being with more than one or two people at a time. In fact, most of my friendship have been duos or trios. When I was working on my master’s in English at Florida State University in the 90s, three of us became attached, to the point where one professor said, “When I see one of you, the other two aren’t far behind.” The trio is no more. One of us moved and married and had children. The other realized she really didn’t like me after all.
The commonplace book is an ancient tradition for copying out quotations. Brilliant thinkers throughout history have kept commonplace books including John Milton, Lewis Carroll, Virginia Woolf, and Octavia Butler.
I used to copy quotations all the time when I was a student. It was the most fun part of keeping a journal, and I still consider those journals the most insightful about my life during those times than the seemingly endless and always boring rants of being unlucky in love or under-appreciated at work.
As a book reviewer, writing down quotes goes a long way to helping me write the reviews. Sure, if I’m reading on my Kindle, I can “highlight” and review those highlights. But it’s not the same as picking up my notebook and pen and jotting the quote down.
I have a few blank notebooks lying about (of course). I doubt that I will actively participate in Jillian’s club (see link above). I’m already far behind in reading and connecting online.
Healthcare
I’ll spare you the rant I shared with a friend earlier today about the compartmentalization of our healthcare system. To wit: regarding a swollen foot, I was referred to my primary doctor who referred me to a vascular clinic who referred me to a vein specialist who I have yet to see. At this point, three doctors with none of them having anything definitive to say about my foot. If the vein specialist refers me to another specialist, I might give up on healthcare altogether.
(I am fine. Really. My right foot tends to swell but I’m doing all the right things and pretty soon I’ll have a bunch of compression socks to wear … when it gets cooler.)
For this week’s challenge, Tina encourages us to “explore the habitats of both human and/or animal “residents.” She includes a quote by the Dalai Lama:
The reality today is that we are all interdependent and have to co-exist on this small planet.”
Sadly, interdependence, biodiversity, climate change are all “dirty” words here in Florida. At least, officially “climate change” can no longer be referenced in any government document. As if climate change won’t exist if the words aren’t spoken or written.
Thankfully, near us is a very special habitat that nurtures biodiversity. A place that I frequently write about.
Some of the following photos are old, of the BCP (Before Cell Phone) Era. They represent various views of the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge (SMNWR) over the years. As many of you know, SMNWR is a favorite place of ours for bicycling. (It used to be a favorite place for hiking, but our feet, knees, and backs won’t tolerate those long walks any more.)
SMNWR provides habitat for deer and a safe haven since the Wildlife Management Area next to the refuge allows hunting during certain times of the year. We see a lot of deer in the refuge when it’s hunting season.
You can’t have a sustainable habitat without allowing some impressive predators to co-exist whether they be snakes, alligators, or bald eagles.
Another favorite habitat is Mashes Sands Beach. It’s what I call a “poor man’s Riveria” as it’s a small beach on an estuary. It harbors a delicate ecosystem. Such as a tiny hermit crab in a tiny shell.
Or many hermit crabs burrowing in the wet sand.
Or an osprey on the hunt.
Then there’s the habitats we create in order to encourage and nurture biodiversity. My husband and I are members of the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation. A modest membership includes a subscription to Wings, a seasonal collection of essays on invertebrate conservation. In the Spring 2024 issue, Scott Black wrote “Planting Habitat as an Act of Hope.” His brief essay did, indeed, give me hope.
Scott wrote about his family’s efforts to transform their lawn into a garden that would provide pollen and nectar for insects. He noted that because of these changes, their “yard has become a magnet for wildlife.” He added:
There is hope, despite what we see in the news. Insects are resilient, and we know that protecting and managing high-quality habitat can quickly produce positive outcomes for insect populations, sometimes within a few years, on a time scale that means we will see the difference.
In our little corner of the world, as my husband and I work to provide a nurturing habitat for bees, butterflies, hummingbirds, and dragonflies, to name a few, in less than two years we are seeing a difference.
An Eastern Carpenter Bee entangles itself in the tiny flowers of an Anise Hyssop.
A Gulf Fritillary feasts on the nectar of a Blue Mystic Spiral.
Another Gulf Fritillary prefers the flowers of a yellow lantana.
Last month I had the pleasure of an photo op with an American Lady. The butterfly must have just emerged from its chrysalis as it made no attempt to escape my lens.
And while we have several poles placed around our house to accommodate the hunting practices of dragonflies, this one decided he preferred a plant hanger.
Finally, a nurturing habitat is necessary for the domesticated animals in our lives. We are fierce believers in keeping our cats indoors. Over the years, we have had to allow for a few stray cats to live outdoors, although they would always have access to shelter in our garage. This wasn’t because they preferred to be outdoors; it was only ever because our house was already full of cats and we knew (through traumatic experience) that the then-indoor cats would not peacefully coexist with the outdoor cats. Eventually, though, as one cat died, one or two was introduced to the indoors … permanently.
The last cat we brought in from the outdoors was Raji. He was very young when he turned up in our yard almost four years ago. He was a shy, suspicious cat and it took some coaxing and a lot of patience to get him into our garage where we would feed him.
Because he was so young, we didn’t want to let him have free reign outside. We were afraid that he would disappear or get hit by one of the many cars that speed through our neighborhood. But we also needed time. We needed him to accept us before we introduced him to the rest of the household.
So we bought a two-level cat cage and my husband “installed” it on the side deck. We already had a cat-door on the garage door so once the “condo” was installed, Raji could enjoy the outdoors without getting loose.
Thankfully, Raji’s habitat is now fully indoors with us and Wendy. Below is Raji in his natural habitat.
Many thanks to Tina for this challenge. I could have kept writing and sharing photos about all kinds of habitats, but, hopefully, the ones in this post will suffice. Habitats are many and varied, some more nurturing than others.
And many thanks to Egídio for last week’s challenge. I am still amazed by how his challenge changed how I see my photos, and how I now compose them.
An important announcement: As in previous years, the Lens-Artists team will be on hiatus for the month of July. There will be no challenge on July 6th, and the rest of the month will be led by several amazing Guest Hosts. They include:
July 13: Leanne of Leanne Cole explores TOURIST ATTRACTIONS
The Lens-Artist team will be back on August 3 when Patti once again leads us on her Pilotfish Blog.
For more information on joining our challenge, click here. Remember, if you’d like to participate in any challenge, always include a link to the original post for the challenge, and include Lens-Artists as a tag so we can find you.
This week’s Lens-Artist Challenge is being hosted by Egídio of Through Brazilian Eyes. The challenge is simple but also eye-opening (no pun intended). Egídio asks us to share images that have two rectangles:
By two rectangles, I mean you have two dominant rectangular areas in your image. For many people, this is one of those compositional tools we use without thinking about it. These rectangles give balance, harmony, and unity to a composition.
He offers some wonderful examples and explanations (essentially offering a mini-photography course), and I encourage you to visit his website.
While I knew I’d probably find rectangles galore in my archive, I decided to snap a few new photos just for this challenge.
First up, our backyard shed.
Cute, isn’t it? But consider the white trim that superimposes a square and a few rectangles over the rectangles of the gray boards. Consider too the rectangular steps that my husband made so we could keep our balance going in and out of the shed. The lines provide visual balance as well.
Next, consider two images of our fence, facing inward.
Image #1
Image #2
The first image is broken into thirds: the sky, the upper part of the fence, and the lower part, all of which are rectangles in the image. The second image omits the sky and while I like it because it provides a bit more of the fence, I prefer the first. When I’m taking photos outdoors, it’s rare when I would purposely omit the sky, even if the sky isn’t the subject of my photo.
Speaking of sky, the next photo is of the same area of our patio but at night. My subject was supposed to be a crescent moon, which of course, shows up as if it were a full moon. Still, I like the composition.
In his post, Egídio writes about Rabatment, a technique of putting a square inside a rectangle. I think I could argue that that is happening in the above photo, with the darker right-hand side of the fence and foliage providing a kind of frame.
Here’s a quirky image of rectangles as a frame for the subject of my photo: a Gulf Fritillary newly emerged from its chrysalis. This is the underside of the railing on our small side deck that leads out onto our patio. I really had to contort my body to get this photo.
And here’s a classic example of two (or more) rectangles in an image …
… on our favorite bike trail at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge.
Finally, a bit of fun. In April we went to Uvalde, Texas (via San Antonio) to see the Total Solar Eclipse. Our tour guide had reserved the Uvalde County Arena for our viewing. I wonder if I can get a sign like this for our front yard.
The arena itself offered very nice composition for photography.
Now, really finally, … can you see the rectangles?
Raji (ginger cat) and Wendy (Tortieco) on their windowsill perches.
If you would like to participate in this week’s challenge (and I hope you do), please note that pingbacks do not work with Egídio’s site. You will need to put your link in the comments on his post. Also, please use the “Lens-Artists” hashtag to it easier for others to find your post.
Last week, Ritva focused on backgrounds and how they affect our composition. That was so much fun and everyone had wonderful examples to share. Next week, Tina will host the next Lens-Artist challenge on Saturday, 12 noon (EDT in the USA). Stay tuned. Please see this page to learn more about the Lens-Artists Challenge and its history.
Lens-Artists team member Donna of Wind Kisses is taking a break from blogging for personal reasons. She will be very much missed but, hopefully be with us again before too long. We wish Donna and her family only the best, as our thoughts are with all of them.
Photo taken about 10 years ago when Maxine (on the left) and Junior (on the right) were still indoor-outdoor kitties and what is now our garden was filled with skinny pine trees.
This week’s Lens-Artist Challenge is hosted by Ritva who encourages us to consider what is behind the subjects of our photography.
Whether it’s a serene landscape, a bustling city street, or a simple studio backdrop, the background influences the mood and message of the image.
I drifted back several years as I looked for photos that I thought would best meet this week’s challenge. As Ritva skillfully shows, there are seemingly endless ways in which background can enhance or even be the subject of our lens.
The next few images were taken in October 2013 during a visit to my childhood home. The light from the setting sun drew my eye to trees that, at any other time, would simply be background, not a focus of my lens.
In the next photo, the white house (on the right) was my childhood home; the other, a house where I spent an inordinate amount of time watching TV with the grandfatherly man who lived there. Both houses are now gone, demolished because of a flood. You can’t see in this photo, but both houses had “Condemned” and “No Trepassing” signs on them.
While it looks like the foreground in the above photo is a wide expanse of lawn, it is in fact a field. When I was a teenager, I worked summers at a cafeteria. On Sundays I worked 7 am to 3 pm, and when I started my mother’s car on Sunday morning, dozens of bunnies jumped at the sound and hopped around in a panic. It was a great way to start my day.
Sometimes to make a subject stand out, you need to add background, like my husband’s hand. I credit Golden Silk spiders with helping me (mostly) get over my spider phobia. While these spiders are quite large, they are also shy and more likely to skittle away from you than toward you.
I feel like I’m digressing from Ritva’s challenge because I seem to be focused on backgrounds that are the subject of my lens. Case in point: Sunrise over a fishing pier at Safety Harbor, Florida.
No, wait … here’s one where a background of neutral colors helps to make my pink yoga mat pop (never mind the blue urn at the bottom corner trying to steal the show). This was taken in August 2017, at an Airbnb in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Here’s an example of an almost monochromatic photo. From a distance, I might not have spotted the alligator given how well it was blending in with the water and lily pads.
Finally, this post would not be complete without a photo or two of a dragonfly. My husband has placed several bamboo poles around our house, and the dragonflies love using them as hunting perches.
Besides attracting dragon- and damselflies, the poles have enabled me to photograph these delightful insects at my leisure. Yes, they fly off frequently to snatch a snack, but they just as quickly come back to the pole.
In the following photo, I blurred the background so I would capture more detail of the dragonfly.
Many thanks to Donna of Wind Kisses who challenged us to think about and illustrate our conceptions of “Connections.” The responses to her challenge were wonderful and demonstrated just how connected we are to each other and to nature.
Please check out Ritva’s post for inspiration for this week’s challenge. If you choose to participate, don’t forget to use the “Lens-Artists” tag so you can be found in the Reader.
Next week, Egídio will be our host. Check in with him at Through Brazilian Eyes on Saturday at 12 noon (EDT in the USA). Please see this page to learn more about the Lens-Artists Challenge and its history.
Without further adieu, I give you Raji and his impersonation of a Meerkat.
This week Donna from Wind Kisses challenges us to find connections using photographs.
Let’s photograph connections this week. Are you interested in the intricacy of mosaic art, or how the strings of a marionette bring it to life? How about railroads, rivers and bridges connecting spaces and places? Personally, I can’t have bacon without eggs, or paper without a pen. And it is impossible to ignore interactions of people connecting with each other and the world around them.
I’ve thought long and hard about this challenge, and I might (I said, might) step outside my comfort zone to meet it. Donna’s post is truly inspiring, expanding the idea of connections beyond what I usually consider the word to mean. And that’s a good thing.
Of course, I see connections in Nature, such as how my (finally) blooming Indian Blanket plant follows the rotation of the sun.
Every morning, and sometimes in the afternoon, I rotate the pot wherein this plant currently resides. It sits on my deck, and I see it through my window while I’m sitting at my desk working. The plant keeps me connected to the outside world just by being available to me visually.
Now, this might sound strange, but I feel connected to myself when I work with fiber, whether it be knitting or weaving. When I was about 9 or 10, I taught myself (not very well) to knit, and so knitting is part of who I am. I’ve used my knitting to connect me to others. Weaving came to me later in life at a private college where I was floundering. I was very unhappy at that college until I signed up for a weaving course. Long story short: the class had such an impact on me that I elected to take my tuition money and buy a loom rather than continue at the college.
I wove a few things but not very well and eventually sold my loom to a friend. Fast-forward a few decades and I yearned to weave again so I bought a modest 20-inch rigid heddle loom. My first project:
I wove this scarf with wool and alpaca yarns meant for knitting socks. Needless to say, weaving the scarf went a lot faster than knitting socks would have. Still, I made mistakes, wasted a bunch of yarn, but … I wear it. I love it. And the process itself connected me all the way back–40-some years–to when I first learned to weave.
I try to connect myself to the environment by upcycling and recycling. From a poster on a Facebook group I was in, I got the idea to cut up all our old t-shirts. Some were so worn that I knew they would only end up in a landfill if I gave them to Goodwill. I used a rotary cutter to slice through the shirts, tied the ends together, and then rolled the strips into balls. A weaving project was born.
I wove the above with no real end in mind. I just wanted to practice weaving. At worst, whatever I made could be used as a cat blanket. Then I wove another piece, only this time I untied the strips as I went, making the weaving process more meditative, connecting more closely with the threads and fabric.
This work I do with my hands often connects me to other people. I can’t wear all the scarves, shawls, socks, and potholders that I make. Sometimes I work with a special person in mind.
I knitted this blanket (above) for my mom. She’s no longer here and the blanket is with someone else now, but I still remember her saying that she loved it.
Connections.
I grew up among women. My mom and my two sisters, my aunts. My uncles were around but disinterested in a pouty-faced little kid.
Out of the seven sisters, only one is left, my Aunt Orvetta, the blonde in the middle. My mother sits to my aunt’s right. I look at photos like this and pine for the days when connections could be made with a letter or a phone call or a visit. Now the connections are made through memory.
I am so grateful for how photography, over so many years, has helped me stay connected to my family. So many of them have died, but when I see photos like the one above, I can almost hear their laughter.
Many thanks to Donna for this thoughtful and expansive challenge. If you choose to participate in this week’s challenge, take Donna’s words to heart:
Have you ever thought about how photography connects the world? Nobody sees the world exactly the same way you see it, and our impressions are as unique we are. How you interpret this week’s challenge is up to you.
Please include the Lens-Artists tag and/or link in the comments so we can find you.
Also, thanks to John for last week’s challenge, AI. What fun that was! Participating in John’s challenge helped me feel a bit less intimidated by AI, and I really enjoyed the contributions and conversations around it.
Ritva will host next week’s challenge starting Saturday 12:00 EST. Visit her site and get ready to be inspired.
Interested in knowing more about the Lens-Artists challenge? Click here for more information.
Recently a friend asked me to write about my experience with BookFunnel. This post will go beyond that since my experience is tethered to the publication of my short story, Love Me Tender. (For background on the story itself, read my post, Mother’s Day: Remembering My Mom and A Story to Give Away.)
Please note that the links provided in this post are not affiliate links; that is, I won’t get a commission or other compensation if you click on them.
I decided to self-publish Love Me Tender for two reasons: (1) the story is so personal that I simply didn’t want to deal with rejections any more; and (2) I wanted to test the waters of self-publication. I’ll be 67 next month and, although I’ve had a few publications over the years, I no longer expect or hope to become a traditionally published author. Time is running out. If I want to be read, I’ll need to do the publishing myself.
But how?
Vellum
I did not want to work with Amazon, not for a short story anyway, and I wasn’t interested in learning how to do book design. Whatever I did, it had to be easy-peasy. I did a little online research (this article by Parrydox was particularly informative) and settled on Vellum software for creating ebooks and paperbacks. Two things sold me on Vellum: (1) the ability to set up and view my short story in ebook form before buying the software; and (2) the possible ease in uploading my story to stores such as Amazon. I say “possible” because I haven’t yet used that feature of the software. Early days.
So I formatted, revised, and reformatted my story using Vellum and generated several different formats. Vellum essentially held my hand the whole way.
Now what? How am I going to get my story into the hands of readers, or at least their electronic devices?
BookFunnel
I recalled getting emails from authors who needed ARC reviewers, and that most of them used BookFunnel to provide the ARC. So I went to BookFunnel. For a $20 annual subscription, I was able to upload the required ebook and print formats to make my story available–for free–to readers. I tested it and, frankly, it’s kind of cool to see my short story on my Kindle.
BookFunnel does offer more than just a place to pick up a free ebook. You can require readers to provide their email addresses and develop a subscriber list. And BookFunnel has its own “bookstore.” But, again, early days. If I decide to self-publish my novels, it might well be worth using more of BookFunnel’s services.
Now, what about readers who don’t use electronic devices to read? For me, there’s still nothing like holding a printed book in my hand. I tried formatting in Word, thinking I could print a few copies myself.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Lulu
Then I remembered Lulu. No, not the singer.
I mean, Lulu, the online self-publishing book and ebook company. I had heard of Lulu through NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) years ago. Lulu held my hand as I uploaded my print file and reformatted the cover design to fit its specifications. I’ve since ordered several copies of my story to mail to family. It was not cheap but it was worth it. Lulu also has a bookstore and, holding my hand again, I was able to add my story to their bookstore in case anyone wanted to purchased a copy.
I could price my story as I wanted as long as the price was above Lulu’s printing costs. I have no interest in making money off Love Me Tender so I set the retail price at a few cents over the printing costs.
So, in a nutshell:
Vellum.pub to create the ebook and paperback formats
BookFunnel.com to provide the formats to readers for free
Lulu.com to provide printed copies at cost.
Since the publication of my short story on Mother’s Day, 15 copies have been downloaded from BookFunnel. More than I expected since the only “marketing” I’ve done is through this blog and a couple of social media sites.
The responses from friends and family have been both gratifying and validating. If Love Me Tender is all I ever publish, I can be happy with that.
Early days.
So, dear Reader, have you self-published? What was your experience like, as far as getting your work into the world?
Do you think I was trying to make it too easy on myself? Be honest.
Any thoughts about making one’s ebooks available for free? On some platforms, there is endless (i.e., ad nauseam) discussions about why we writers should be paid for every single word we write. I understand that if writing is your livelihood, but if it isn’t … .
Thank you for reading. I leave you with an oldie-but-goodie of Junior (RIP).
This week’s Lens-Artist Challenge is all about Delicate, hosted by Ann-Christine at Leya. Reading a few of the responses to her challenge has been inspiring. The challenge is simple:
What is delicate to you? Feel free to use it in any meaning: exquisite, fragile, subtle, elegant…etc.
Sometimes I feel I see delicacy everywhere. Clouds appear delicate with their soft, fluffy forms.
Several weeks ago, these tussock moth caterpillars decided to hang out on the siding of our house. They seem so delicate that I’d be hesitant to touch them, which is a good thing because their “fur” can be irritating to human skin.
I believe I featured this little guy on my blog sometime ago. I think he’s a perfect candidate for this challenge, as he tries to maintain his grip on the lip of a large planter.
Butterflies are a natural example of nature’s delicacy, or fragility.
Finally, a photo that I had been wanting to share for a long time. While some might not see the alligator as a “delicate” creature, I do. Despite the facts that they can live to a ripe old age, and that they have been around seemingly for eternity, their habitat (and thus their existence) is always prey to that delicate balance between the needs of Nature and the wants of humans.
Although I was using the zoom on my iPhone camera, I was closer to this mama than I would normally allow myself. She was in the water and I was on a bridge, leaning over the railing, so I figure I had time to get away if needed. If she had been on land with her babies, we wouldn’t have even stopped. She had five babies with her, and I want to believe that she knew I meant no harm. The photo doesn’t do justice to actually being there. It felt like a gift, being to view this mother with her little ones.
I was so glad they were in the water.
Can a cat be delicate? Maybe not these two.
If you choose to participate in this challenge, you might be careful of using flowers as next week Sofia will go Floral.
Please remember to use the Lens-Artist tag if you are participating, and to link to Ann-Christine’s original post.
I am still writing, just privately and inconsistently. I didn’t write at all while we were on our Eclipse trip and then not for a few days after we returned. And I was fine with that. And then I started again, reminding myself of all the things I do outside of writing so I wouldn’t be surprised when sometimes I forget to write.
In the midst of all this, I finalized a short story that I plan to make available for free. I started the story in 1992 in a writing workshop with Jerome Stern. Although it is fiction, I had my parents in mind while I wrote it. Now that they are both deceased, I feel I can share the story now. I want to release it on Mother’s Day. Wish me well.
Creativity
I’ve been making potholders again, a few to gift to friends for upcoming special occasions. The rest will pile up until I can figure out what to do with them. I’ve also been knitting a pair of socks but I put those aside in order to knit a scarf. I bought this kit in Spruce –Bennet Bandana–from a shop in Thomasville, GA. It was a perfect knitting project for our trip: simple to knit, simple to stow in my bag. I could have brought the socks, but … well, I wanted a break from them.
Garden
When we got back from San Antonio, I was thrilled to find that our Bugleweed plant was straight-up blooming.
Bugleweed in our side yard.
Even more exciting, a small plant I had recently bought, and promptly forgot the name of, also started to bloom. Thankfully, I remembered to include the tag the plant came with: Fringed Campion.
The first bud of my Fringled Campion
Bloom in Portrait mode.
It’s blooming!
Grief
As Mother’s Day approaches, my mood is shifting downward. I know I’m adding to my stress by my plan to release a short story, but what else should I do? It will be my first Mother’s Day without my mom. How else can I honor her and my memory of her? And my sister Shirley. Almost two years she’s been gone and yet my heart still twists in pain when I see the Mother’s Day cards that I would have bought for her. There’s no getting over this kind of loss.
Cats
But for our cats, I’d be in a sorrier state. This guy here … we are now calling him Snugglebunny. He snuggled up to me all on his own. I’m so glad I was able to snap a picture and record the event.
Marie at 1 Write Way 