C'est la vie

It's a short, happy life for snowmen who live near the ocean...

Snowman Day

 We finally got our first snowstorm on Cape Cod this weekend. My daughter has been waiting all year to make a snowman, since somehow she never made one at all last year. I've been hearing about her plans for months.

She spent hours outside during the storm yesterday, rolling up the balls, but couldn't lift them by herself. I told her we'd help her when it stopped snowing. Which was this morning.

This snowman reminds me of a time back in the 19070s, when we had a huge storm, and all the kids in the neighborhood worked together to build an eight foot tall snowman. We measured. Eight feet and five inches tall. We had to use a ladder to put the face on, too. My oldest son, hugging the snowman on the right, is 6'1", so my daughter's snowman rivals the one in my memory...

What's your favorite snowman memory?

WInter Warmer: Read an Excerpt from CRASHING HEARTS!

I'm thrilled to welcome debut author Emma Leigh Reed back to my blog again this week, with an excerpt from her new novel, CRASHING HEARTS. If you missed my introduction and interview with Emma last week, you can scroll back through the blog a few days... or simply click here to go read it.

Okay, if you're not going back to read the whole interview, here's the back cover blurb again:

Kira Nichols is raising her autistic son alone while dealing with the guilt she has lived with for years surrounding her husband’s death.  Grant Rutledge returns to his hometown to help take over the family business and to repair the spiked heel to his broken heart. When he runs into a beautiful, overprotective mother and her nonverbal son, sparks fly and his chance to be part of a loving family seems possible again.  When Kira discovers a secret from Grant’s past, she second-guesses her heart. She must overcome her suspicions and haunting ghosts from the past in order to get what she wants – if it’s not too late. To build the family Grant has always wanted, he has to learn to follow his heart.

For more info, to find Emma on the web, or to order her book, here are the details:

CRASHING HEARTS is published by Whiskey Creek Press and can be found http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/store/. Or at Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Crashing-Hearts-ebook/dp/B006S677ZG/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1325603515&sr=1-3

Emma's blog: http://emmaleighreed.blogspot.com/ 

Emma's website:www.emmaleighreed.com 

Twitter and Facebook: @emmaleighreed, and facebook.

Without further ado, the promised excerpt...

CRASHING HEARTS EXCERPT:

Chapter 1

Kira Nichols pushed back her hair as the crisp salt air blew it across her face. She walked up the path—her sneakers leaving small impressions in the soft sand—to the cul-de-sac. At the empty lot across from her house, the foundation had been capped over and abandoned for about a year now.

She sprang into a run at the rumble of a sports car arriving at a fast clip. She arrived at the cul-de-sac at the same time the vehicle skidded to a stop. She caught her breath as the lean, ruggedly handsome man exited his vehicle. The smile he flashed her was one she imagined had many women melting at his feet.

Kira squared her shoulders and approached him. Her five foot two inch frame seemed minute compared to his at least six foot stature. She willed herself to appear calm and not give away that her senses had completely left her at the sight of him.

“Grant Rutledge.” He extended his hand to her. His deep voice, like a shot of brandy, was warm and soothing. She swallowed hard, her anger forgotten for a brief second. Then it flared back and she ignored his hand. “Do you have any idea that there are children in this area?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

“My apologies if you felt I was going too fast.” He gave an exaggerated glance around. “There aren’t any children about now.” He smiled that smile again and in spite of her anger, her heart melted. She started with the realization he still had his hand extended in introduction. She tentatively shook his calloused fingers. Tingles shot up her arm and she struggled with not yanking her hand away. Heat flooded her face. She prayed he couldn’t tell.

“Again, I apologize. I hope you wouldn’t think I have no regard for children.”

Kira turned to go. “I just know the type.” She gestured absently at the car. She forced herself to walk slowly towards her house, feeling his eyes on her back. Her mind whirled. She had practically melted at the sound of his voice. Her cheeks reddened at the thought of him watching her walk away—thankful she had stayed in shape.

The solitude of the cul-de-sac was the reason she originally loved this spot. Her house had been the only one in this two-lot area for six years. She hoped the new construction company would be considerate and not disrupt the serenity, and keep working hours to normal business hours, hours when Jared was in preschool.

She thought back to the long hours they kept when they put in the foundation. Jared had been unable to sleep due to the noise and disruption of his routine. Hopefully this time around the noise wouldn’t disturb him. He was just beginning to sleep through the night.

If only she could.

* * * *

Jared ran up the walkway to meet Kira, signing furiously: “Who is that man?”

“That is Grant Rutledge,” she signed back. “He is going to be building the new house, so you will need to stay away from the construction site.”

Jared’s hands and fingers flew in his excitement to know about the new house, and the fast car he saw. “Jared, use your words.” Kira ushered him into the house.

“Car, red.”

“Yes, the car was red, and it’s very fast, so you must stay away from there.” Kira found Barbara’s eyes over Jared’s head, and gave her the “I have so much to tell you” look.

“Time to get ready for the day, Jared,” Barbara interjected.

Jared skipped off to the bedroom happily, and Barbara handed Kira a cup of coffee. “Spill. I saw him. It wasn’t the fast car that made you come into this house so quick.”

Kira, glaring at Barbara over the coffee, walked slowly to the sliding doors overlooking the ocean. “What happened to the quietness of our lives? Why do I feel like it is gone?”

“Is it gone?” Barbara asked. “Or just stirred up a little? I think maybe you’ve been holding onto grief and bitterness for so long that you don’t have any idea how to look objectively at life. Before you say it, I’m heading for the kitchen and not saying another word. Nevertheless, before I go, let me just say out of love for you, Kira, darling, Patrick’s been gone for four years now. You’ve built your life around Jared, and that’s great because Jared needs you. However, there comes a time when you need someone also, someone besides Jared and an old lady like myself.”

“Barb, it’s not like that.”

“Honey, you’ve been holding on for so long, and don’t tell me you’re not angry with Patrick for the way he left the night of the accident. Kira, I’m angry with him. He never should’ve left that way. You had it just as tough as him, if not more, with the crying. He was the father. He should have been here right beside you.”

“Stop! We are not going to rehash that night and we certainly aren’t going to blame Patrick. He’s gone and nothing is going to change that.” Kira looked toward the ocean and for- got about her coffee and Barbara. For a moment she lost track of the here and now and drifted off into the peace of the ocean.

Something caught Kira’s eye, and she turned to see Grant taking measurements, preparing for the construction. Feelings she hadn’t felt in so long flooded her as she watched his dark, wavy hair blow in the breeze. Half sighing, half growling to herself, she turned from the window. Distractions were not what she needed now. There was a routine to follow. For Jared’s sake.

Pawprints on my Soul...

Sixteen and a half years ago, this puppy came into my life, six months before the baby did. We learned that we should always keep pregnant women - me, at least - away from boxes of puppies. Who knew the post office could be such a dangerous place? Go in to mail a letter, come out with an armload of squirmy black puppy.

Luckily, she turned out to be a wonderful dog for our family.

When my oldest was little (umm, like in the photo above... now he's 16 and 6'1") he couldn't say Montana. Not even close. He called the dog "Bana." So we nicknamed her "Montana Banana" so that his pronunciation made a little bit of sense. The other two kids just figured that was her name all along.


She's had her ups and downs with her health. In 2000, we finally (finally!) figured out that her unexplicable weight loss was due to the fact that she'd swallowed a tennis ball... and needed surgery to remove it... She's had more neural episodes than I can count, although the vet insists dogs don't have strokes, but there it is. And tumors? Oh yeah. In the last few years she's been lumpier than any dog has a right to be. But the last few weeks have been different, each day a little harder. This morning she just couldn't stand up anymore.

It was time.

We're going to miss you, Montana. Hope you're up in dog heaven chasing rabbits and squirrels and playing with your old friends, all of whom you somehow outlived. I hope they were all there waiting for you and there was a big dog party in your honor.

Montana Banana

May 27, 1995 - January 17, 2012