Are you flying the flag today? Mine is out. I display it every day when the weather is appropriate. Sometimes, I leave it out even at night. I’ve read that it’s okay to do this as long as the flag is lit, so I leave my porch light on.

Today is a multi-tasking day for me. I’m reading e-mail, posting this blog to you, doing laundry, and making sauce for lasagna. My youngest son’s birthday is tomorrow—thus the lasagna. I’ll have a big salad to go along, Sister Shubert yeast rolls, and banana pudding for dessert. Yum. I use a recipe of my mother’s to make the pudding and it is the best. Instead of vanilla pudding, I make a brown-sugar pie-filling, and I substitute graham crackers for vanilla wafers. Top it with meringue—so good.

I just got up to stir the tomato-based sauce, and it splattered all over the stove. I’ll add cleaning the stove to my list of tasks. (Smile.) A woman’s work is never done.

Sometime soon my publisher will be offering a free download of Skip Rock Shallows to Kindle. I’ll let you know the date just before it becomes available.

Tattler’s Branch will be released in September, and I’ve started book 8. Whew—lots to do. But for now, I’d better go clean that stove.

Please pray for the folks in Colorado Springs. Some people I know are evacuating their homes as they are in the fire’s path. I always think of the animals and pray they are spared. Lord be merciful.

I knew something was wrong when Maggie refused her breakfast. She sat on my lap most of the morning, but was more than ready for her mid-day walk. Those of you with dogs probably know how ominous that raspberry jam looking diarrhea stool looks. Maggie had that symptom once before when I had wallpaper removed and drywall refinished. She licked the dust from her feet and became very ill.

I brought her back in the house where she begged for a treat. The treat came back up. I let her drink and she kept the water down. She walked around the house with droopy ears and a tucked tail.  A trip to the vet was in order. She started trembling before we even got out of the car. I let her snuggle under my coat as we waited in the reception area.

Oh, the indignity of what a vet-tech will do: First the scales—10lbs-9oz, then the reluctant retrieval of a stool sample.  Poor little Maggie, I’ve never heard her cry like that. A word to the wise: Take a sample with you to the vet’s office.

When the doctor came in he listened to her heart and gave her a basic exam. He recommended an allergy shot (she’s allergic to grass and budding trees and who-knows-what else) and a bitter-tasting pill to be taken twice a day. He tried to make amends by offering her a soft chew treat, but she was not going to be wooed into forgiveness so easily. She will never take treats while she’s in the office even if all she’s been there for is a nail clipping.

Exam finished and pill bottle in hand we stopped by the receptionist’s desk to get a treat from the biscuit jar. Maggie nosed it from my pocket as soon as we got in the car. I went by McDonald’s and bought a plain cheeseburger. She ate a bite of burger and bun, medication hidden inside, with relish. I let her have a few more bites. Her ears perked up and her tail waved.

Eighty-four dollars and a cheeseburger later she’s right as rain.

That which was lost is found! Saturday morning I began preparations for a feast. My youngest son was coming by to take my bathroom sink apart and hopefully find the diamond earring I had carelessly lost down the drain earlier in the week. The feast was to reward his effort.

I started the chicken early and put the Allen’s green beans on the back burner to simmer with a chunk of cured bacon. (That’s how we cook green beans in Kentucky—and they have to be Allen’s.) And I had to have mashed potatoes—all home-cooked meals call for mashed potatoes. But the best part of the meal was the fluffy, tender dumplings–Chicken and Dumplings, a real southern treat. It was a perfect meal for a cold Kentucky day. I also opened a jar of the pickled beets that my friend, Mandy, canned last summer.

The meal was excellent, and Stephen found my earring! He fished it out of the overflow channel with a guitar string. Amazing.

The Oscars will be presented later tonight. What if one of the actresses dropped her earring into the sink? It would probably be too big to go down the drain. For sure, none of those lovely ladies would be able to fit into her gown if she ate chicken and dumplings.

Years ago my husband gave me a lovely set of diamond earrings. I wore them almost daily. Yesterday, I decided to wear them with gold jackets. I noticed when I put them on that they didn’t seem very secure (the jackets are heavy).  I was standing at the bathroom sink blow-drying my hair when one of the sets: diamond stud, jacket, and back fell into the sink. I gasped as I saw them slide down the porcelain toward the drain. Quickly I captured the set with the curve of my palm and drew them towards the lip of the sink and up onto the counter.  With a sigh of relief I turned the hair-dryer off so that I could put my earrings back on. But, to my horror I’d saved the jacket and the back, but the diamond had disappeared. It was then I noticed the three little circular openings at the top of the sink. My precious diamond had fallen into the overflow channel.

Maybe I wouldn’t have been so upset if I’d carelessly lost it at another time, but eight years ago this week my darling husband died and now, through a moment’s inattention, I’d lost his gift to me—a sign of his love and care.

I chastised myself. Why hadn’t I stopped to secure the back? Why had I decided to wear the jackets when I was only going to the mall to take a walk? How could I be so careless? The small loss of the earring seemed a symbol of the larger loss of my husband. I didn’t cry. Instead I picked another set to wear and went on out to take my walk. But, oh, I was so disappointed.

I was in Macy’s when it hit me: If my husband were still here he would find that earring if he had to take the whole bathroom apart. He could fix anything—literally. And so I called my youngest son. Saturday, he’s coming over to take the sink apart. I’m betting he finds that diamond. I’ll let you know.

“My grief and pain are mine. I have earned them. They are part of me. Only in feeling them do I open myself to the lessons they can teach.” Anne Wilson Schaef. From the book, “Healing After Loss,” by Martha Whitmore Hickman.

I took myself out for a Valentine lunch today, and while I was driving on one of Lexington’s busiest roads I spied an older woman riding a wobbly bicycle. At least I think it was the bicycle that was wobbly—perhaps it was the lady.  A large slouch purse hung from one of the bike’s handles and a shopping bag dangled from her elbow. She wore a knit hat, hot- pink pants, and a fur coat. Well, my writer’s heart was captivated. What stories she must have to share. What a life she must have led. If I had not been afraid I’d get her killed in traffic, I would have stopped to talk with her. Of such characters and a little imagination rich stories are spun.

My children gave me flowers, strawberries dipped in chocolate, and Orange Leaf yogurt for Valentine’s. Maggie accompanied me on a walk in the park.  And the wobbly bicycle lady gave me food for thought. I hope your Valentine’s Day was equally blessed.

I just finished the edit for Tattler’s Branch. Everyone say, “Yay!”

I had to cut some scenes and add some others. For instance: towards the end of one chapter it is raining. In the following chapter there was a change in POV but it is a sunny day. As the Bible says, it rains on the just and the unjust alike. And in the world of fiction, if it rains on one of my characters it must rain on the others. (smile)

My editor does not change what I write. She makes suggestions and points out places where I go amiss.  I nearly always bow to her expertise. This process makes my books much better. As a writer, it’s good to remember the goal is to turn out a really good book, not to be possessive of your words. It is cold and icy here inKentucky—I think I’ll go write a warm and sunny day.

I had no intent to stay up until midnight last evening. Maggie was snuggled down on her pillow fast asleep, and my pillow was calling, but I’ve been under-the-weather with bronchitis and a cough that will not let me rest. And so with millions of others, I watched the revelers in Time Square as the beautiful crystal ball dropped. As 2012 slipped away and I wished it good riddance, the sound of fireworks boomed outside my house.

The sky looked like the 4th of July, only prettier, as the fireworks were reflected in the snow-covered ground. Across the street, my neighbor’s Christmas tree was shining as brightly as the sky. I was almost thankful for the illness that kept me awake for this lovely living Christmas card.

I have many hopes for this New Year: hope that our elected officials will somehow come together as they should for the benefit of all, hope that there will be jobs and paychecks for working folks and helping hands for those in need, hopes for no more violence, hopes for easily accessed mental-health care, and hopes that all the dogs and kitties have a pillow to sleep on.

I don’t usually make resolutions or set goals, but for myself, I hope that my newest book, Tattler’s Branch, pleases my readers and that I make the correct decision about my next project.

I’d love to hear how you celebrated the New Year, and what your hopes and dreams for 2013 are.

After an early morning walk and a few bites of kibble (for Maggie, not me) it was off to the vets for a much needed pedicure. Maggie hates to go to the animal hospital for any reason. I don’t know how she knew where we were going, but she was trembling all over before we got to the end of the driveway. Usually, she stands on a pillow on the passenger seat with her nose out the window, anticipating the walking trail at the end of the drive, but not today. Since I can drive to the vet on back roads, and since she was so upset, I broke my own rule and let her sit on my lap.

When we pulled up in front of the clinic, she stuck her head under my arm in her classic, “If I can’t see them, they can’t see maneuver.” Even getting her on the scale for a weight check was traumatic. (What girl wants to be weighed in a public place?) She was her usual svelte 11.20 pounds/ounces. The vet tech retrieved the nail clippers and eight clicks later Maggie was finished. I’ve learned if I hold her in a dangling position during the nail trim, as opposed to having her sit on the table, she doesn’t put up such a fuss. With her attitude, it’s a good thing she’s not a Great Dane or a German Shepherd.

The tech offered Maggie a treat, but she declined. She wasn’t about to let down her guard. No telling what those people would want to do to her next. On the way out, I stopped at the dog biscuit jar and picked out one tiny biscuit in each color for her to have once she was back in her usual good humor. The bill was 11.50. I could get my nails polished for less.

Next we went through the McDonald’s drive through for a bacon-cheese-egg biscuit and a diet cola. I’d brought the morning newspaper in anticipation of reading while I ate. After driving to the park, I unfolded the paper and enjoyed my breakfast while Maggie nosed around for the biscuits I hid under her car-seat pillow. As soon as she had polished off her treats, she climbed back in my lap. It’s hard to read the paper through a dog, so we took a nice walk instead. Midway around the trail, I could hear a rooster crowing. If Maggie could hear, I’m sure she would have enjoyed finding that rooster.

Now, while I work, Maggie is curled up in her bed taking a well deserved nap. I am grateful for Maggie. She’s a great big dog in a small dog body. She is willful and spunky and does things her way. But, she’s also fiercely loyal and very loving—unless you’re a vet with nail clippers in your pocket.

If you like to read about writing or know someone who does, the following book would be a terrific Christmas gift. C.J. is a friend of mine. She also won the Christian Writers Guild 1^st Novel Contest.

112 Christian Authors and Publishing Professionals Share Their Best Advice for Novelists.

On Amazon for your KINDLE: http://ow.ly/flxhF
On B&N for your NOOK:  http://www.ow.ly/flyAC

C.J. Darlington
TitleTrakk.com Co-founder / Family Fiction Magazine Contributor / NovelCrossing.com Contributor
http://www.cjdarlington.com

I had good news from Tyndale (my publishing house) this week. They have accepted “Tattler’s Branch Road” for publication next September. Whew! What a relief. Even though this will be the 7th book Tyndale has published, I still go through writer’s anguish after I send a new manuscript in. It is difficult to part with the characters I’ve spun out of thin air. I always wonder if they are really ready to meet the public.  It’s sort of like it was years ago when I got my three boys ready for Sunday school, always tucking something in, wiping something off, and straightening something else.

In “Tattler’sBranch Road,” you will meet a diverse group of people. There’s Doc Lilly (of course) and Armina (whom you’ve already met), as well as Lilly’s sister Mazy, the local sheriff, Chanis Clay, and a sly stranger,  Shade Harmon.

The story centers on a baby who seems to appear out of nowhere. Why doesn’t her mother come forward to claim her? The good folks in Skip Rock Shallows step up to keep the baby safe and ultimately to save the life of Doc Lilly.

In my writing I like to explore what makes people do the things they do. I think my readers will like getting to know the people who populate this new novel. For myself, I’ve grown very fond of them. Can’t wait to see if you like them too.

Pray for the folks impacted by Hurricane Sandy and also for the leaders we will elect on Tuesday. How wonderful it is to live in a free society.

This past Saturday would have been my 50^th wedding anniversary had my husband lived. We were married in 1962. We met when I was fifteen and he nineteen. He was from a neighboring county. All of his friends thought we were a perfect match. We started “going steady” when he gave me his high-school class ring from 1959. It was the fashion in those days to wrap your boyfriend’s ring in angora wool which was teased into a puff. Cool, daddy, cool.

Our dates were Saturday night events consisting of going to the Dairy Queen or Frisch’s drive through, or to the local theatre where we watched movies like “All Hands on Deck,” with Pat Boone and Barbara Eden and “Sanctuary,” starring Lee Remick and Yves Montand. We thought we were so grownup. After our dates we would park under the sugar maple tree at the end of my driveway. When my dad thought we’d been out there long enough he would turn the flood light off and on.

We were each other’s only sweethearts. When I graduated from high-school we became engaged. My ring had an actual diamond chip and was precious to my heart. We were married that October. Two weeks later Chuck was drafted into the army. Eleven months later our first son was born. Two other sons followed giving us three wonderful boys.

When Chuck returned home from active duty we set up housekeeping in nearby Lexington,Ky. He became an engineer and I a registered nurse. We were given forty-three years together. Our love never waned. I can truly say I loved him just as much the day I kissed him good-bye as I did when we shared our first kiss under that old sugar maple tree.

On what would have been my 50^th wedding anniversary I celebrated good memories.