Contest Winners, Mom Moments and the Eclipse

Good morning. Hope you are having a great week. We’re dealing with colds, so this post might be short and all over the place. So, to keep me on track, here’s what I plan to write about today.

1. Announcement of the winner’s of last week’s contest
2. A mom moment because my oldest is now 12 years old
3. A thought or 2 on yesterday’s solar eclipse

Congratulations to Lucy Reynolds and Carolyn Holtz, winners of the giveaway I did last week. It was great having Heather Day Gilbert here, and I know you ladies are going to enjoy “Miranda Warning”. Check your email, because we need your addresses to mail you the books. Thank you all for reading and commenting, and I hope you’ll stick around. :)

Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? One minute you’re busy changing diapers, and the next, you’re telling them not to wear such a low cut shirt. LOL Twelve! I’m stunned. Where has time gone? I remember holding her for the first time at a few minutes after 6 AM 12 years ago, and now, she’s going shopping with my Mom with money of her own in her purse. She helped decorate the cookies I made yesterday for our eclipse/birthday party, arranged the table and chairs outside for our guests, still sits on my lap and tells me she loves me, loves to decorate, loves to paint, sings so pretty when she thinks no one is listening and reminds me everyday what it’s like to be young. :)

Saw a post on Facebook a few minutes ago that disturbs me. It said something like, “God speaks profoundly through the signs of heaven.” I didn’t read it all, but what disturbs me is that no one mentioned God speaking through His Word, only signs in the heavens, signs they can see. Seems to me that Jesus had something to say about this in Matthew 16:4. “A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall be no sign given unto it, but the sign of the prophet Jonah. And he left them, and departed.” In order to understand the sign of the prophet Jonah, we have to look into the Old Testament, which, BTW is the Word.

Now, I’m not saying God doesn’t speak to us through the signs of the heavens. He can and does. After all, Psalm 19 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.” Therefore, we must take the eclipse yesterday for what it is—the glory and wisdom of God on display. He’s got the whole world (universe, galaxies, everything you see in the night sky) in His hands, and the best way to get to know what He is saying to us as a people and as individuals is to get into His Word. He will give us wisdom and understanding, if we simply ask Him.

So thankful for His healing power. I felt pretty rough when I began writing this. Feeling much better as I finish. If you enjoyed the interview last week and want more of them, drop me a comment and let me know. Love hearing from my readers. The birthday girl and the youngest aren’t doing school today, so I’m praying for inspiration to write on one of my works in progress. Here’s praying you have a fantabulous week. Catch you here next Tuesday.

Blessings.

End of Summer Post

**Heads up** The following post will be random and might not make much sense.

Organization and time management skills are essential for a homeschool mama who is also a writer. But, what does an author and a homeschool mama do if these skills do not com naturally? Pray and work hard. Yep, that’s it, and I should know, because here I had all summer to straighten and clean and get ready for the coming school year, and I’m just now…a week before school starts…straightening and cleaning and preparing. Can anyone say procrastination?

Yesterday, my own mama stopped by and tried to help me organize a cabinet. Trouble was, she wanted it organized to her standards. Her standards are fine for her, but as a blind person, when it comes to important stuff like cleaners that I want to use whether a sighted person is here or not, I need for them to be where I put them, not where someone else puts them.

And, speaking of my disability, I really get annoyed when people use a lot of emojis instead of actual words. My speech on my phone is great at announcing what those emojis are, but it gets real tiresome hearing the speech say over and over, “Clapping hands with light skin tone. Clapping hands with light skin tone. Clapping hands with light skin tone.” Deed.

Back to cleaning and straightening. The funniest part of today’s cleaning spree was seeing my 11-year old, my 9-year-old and my mama sitting in the living room floor playing barbies under the guise of sorting them. Ha! I love it.

I’m really afraid I’m going to have to take a reading day before school starts. Last night and today, I really wanted to turn on an audio book. Listening to a story with humor and awesome characters while keeping my hands busy with yarn and needles, now, that sounds like a plan. When to fit in the time, though?

So, next Tuesday, right here on the blog, I am interviewing a Christian author straight from WV. A few weeks ago, I downloaded the audio version of Heather Day Gilbert’s “Miranda Warning”, and fell in love with the characters. They reminded me of friends and family right here at home. I asked Heather if I could feature her, and she graciously agreed. We are also doing a giveaway. There are 2 softcover copies of “Miranda warning” waiting on 2 lucky people who leave a comment after reading the interview. Y’all won’t want to miss it, so mark your calendars. There is also a Facebook event, so come on over and check it out.

Here’s apologizing for not being more organized with this blog. I’m running around like a crazy mama who knows that come next Monday, I’ll be busy encouraging my girls and myself to get up earlier and hit the books. We need your prayers. I’ll be back next week with that interview, so catch ya’ll then.

Be blessed.

Lil Bit of Wisdom

Tuesday again, and I find myself unable to concentrate on a subject to write about. I thought of telling you about my vacation last week, but we didn’t do anything terribly exciting. I wanted to come up with some biblical wisdom, but all that is running through my mind is God’s goodness and grace. Certainly he is enough, so maybe I’ll talk about that.

While scrubbing my bathtub earlier, I had this profound thought: I have to put some muscle into ridding my tub of grime, but the Lord washes me clean with only one drop of Jesus blood. How awesome is that? Seems like we try and try to better ourselves, knowing all along we can not do anything to fix ourselves. Only His blood makes us clean. It isn’t even hard for Him.

I’ve also been thinking of organization. I have none, BTW, at least, none that would make sense to anyone else. My oldest daughter, however, is organizing the bowls that we keep seashells in. She wants to make them look pretty. Me, I'd just dump them in there and call it a job well done. She is taking her time, making sure each one fits the best. Guess maybe she’s doing something the Lord does all the time: putting us where we will look and work out the best. We fight Him, sometimes. We don’t like this particular job or situation. We’d rather do this or that, but He knows best how and where we will fit to make His plan what He knows it can be. Lord, let me be a little seashell in your hand, so you can put me where you want me.

Spent all week during my vacation thinking of my characters, Mercy and Gabriel. Had a brainstorming session with my friend and couldn’t wait to get home where I was sure inspiration would flood my mind like a…well, a flood. Hahaha! But, last night, I clearly heard conversation in my mind that is intended strictly for another manuscript. Wow, haven’t thought of that one in a month or more. So, before my cleaning spree today, I sat down and worked a bit on it.

Well, think I’m about out of words for now, so even though this was short, praying y’all have a safe week. Remember, I’m doing an interview and a giveaway. Two weeks from now on August 15. I’ll be creating an event on my FB page, so come on over and check it out. The address to the FB page is facebook.com/sjwellsauthor/

Blessings to you all.

The Photo Shoot

Happy Tuesday. So glad you could spend your day with me. I’m learning how to post pics in a document, so you all can get a glimpse of the photo shoot from last night. Ready? Here we go.

First, a little background info. My newest book, which is set to release in a couple of months takes place both in modern times and in the past. The heroine of today returns home from war, wounded and finds a book about her ancestors who fought at the battle of Shiloh in the Civil War. So, I had to find period costumes and houses that looked like they were built in the 1800’s. Thanks to my family and friends, we picked out 2 locations and 2 dresses for my model to try.

Our first stop was a little, stone house nearby.  

My model had a disagreement with a spider on her dress, we got bug bites, but we laughed as the photographer clicked away. 

The light was fading fast, so we hurried to our second location, the historic Tompkins House here in Cedar Grove.

The owners were to home and gave us permission to shoot away.

Afterward, we banged on the door with the old-fashioned knocker and showed our pictures to the owners. They graciously allowed us to come in and take more. All in all, a fun-filled evening and a successful photo shoot.

Just FYI, pictures and blind people don’t always make the best combinations. Without help from my oldest daughter, you wouldn’t get to see these pics, nor would I have a model looking so pretty for the cover of my book.

Many thanks to the one who lent us the costumes, those who did my girl’s hair, those who drove and snapped pictures and the encouragement along the way. Looking forward to releasing this book.

Interested in voting on which pic we use for the cover? Come on over to facebook.com/sjwellsauthor/ and be sure to click “like”. A contest is coming soon, plus chances to preorder print copies. Lots of fun stuff just around the corner.

Until next time, remember the one who loves you the most, your heavenly Father.

4th of July Miracle

I’m a day late, but if you will bare with me, faithful readers, I have a story to tell. It’s a story of family togetherness, improvisation and simple blessings. Read on, because today I’m talking about 4th of July miracles.

Once upon a time, there was a mom who was blind who felt sad that she could not drive her daughters to see the 4th of July fireworks. Knowing from previous experience, sighted drivers are few and far between, she prayed for help from the Lord.

Around 9:45 pm on July 2, she was in her daughters’ bedroom hearing their prayers and hugging and kissing them goodnight, when there came a pop from outside. “Was that fireworks?” She asked.

“Yes,” her daughters said, glancing out their bedroom window into the backyard.

“Let’s go out and watch,” said Mom.

So, there on the steps to the back porch, Mom and girls sat. The girls kept their faces turned toward the night sky, ooing and awing over each burst of color. “I can feel it in my chest,” the oldest said.

“I want to sneak and watch the neighbors,” the youngest said.

For fifteen minutes, laughter bubbled up, and a closeness, warm and peaceful settled over the backyard, as each firework lit up the dark sky, outlining the steeple of the church one street over. When the display ended and Mom and girls were walking back inside, the girls exclaimed over the fireworks that they had been able to watch for free and without any of the crowds found in the city. Mom rejoiced over the simple, straight forward way that God had answered her prayer.

Two nights later on the 4th, Mom was once again telling her daughters goodnight, when that all-to-familiar popping was heard again. Out the door they went, Mom’s ears pricked and girls eyes wide open. After a few minutes, the youngest got bored and went back inside, but the oldest girl stayed outside, describing each firework to her mom who could not see. Thirty minutes later, the night around them quieted, and both Mom and daughter joined the youngest inside where they hugged, kissed and said their prayers. Another night of firework watching was behind them that did not include searching for a driver nor dealing with crowds. God had answered twice. I suppose you could call it a double blessing, a 4th of July miracle.

When I was growing up, several elderly folks tried to discourage me from getting my hopes up about marriage and children. How could I change a diaper? How would I manage if my house caught on fire? How would I know what my children needed? What would I do about going places? These were questions that haunted me at first, but they also fueled my determination to prove them all wrong. I could get married and have children, and I could do it as well as anybody else.

I don’t know who was putting off the big fireworks over the weekend, but I hope they know how thankful I am for them. Those fireworks went off practically over my backyard; my girls saw them with no difficulty. I had been feeling a little down that I didn’t have a ride to the fireworks displays in the area. However, nothing could have been better than the ones my girls and I were part of both Sunday and Tuesday nights. We laughed and teased each other, sat close together on my back steps and just enjoyed our time together. Money can’t buy that kind of happiness. After all, it isn’t the quantity of time, money or material things that is important, it is the quality of time, the realization that money isn’t important and the absence of material things that puts us in a position to hear from our Creator. Remember that the next time this world and its cares start to choke out your relationship with your heavenly Father.

So, what did you think of the story? Would love to hear from you, and be sure to follow the blog. Lots of exciting things coming up.

Until next time, be safe, remember to smile and hold your love ones a little tighter.

Blessings.

From The Crazy Writer

You don't think writers are crazy? Well, you'd better take a closer look, 'cause I'm here to tell ya, I'm as crazy as it gets. Keep reading; I have proof.

Proof number 1.
During the day, I can't stop talking to my characters, thinking about my characters and writing about my characters. I'm working on a new project, and so far, my momentum has not slowed down. At night, I think about them, pray for them and even hear them talk to me in my sleep. This would naturally sound crazy, but no more crazier than I've ever been. But, you see, this time the characters aren't of my own making; they are real people. Yep, living, breathing people who probably thought I was a weirdo stalker at first. Hey, they might still think it, but at least they aren't treating me like it to my face. LOL

Proof number 2.
If there is something I don't understand that pertains to my characters, I will research that something to death. Yesterday, my daughter and I were looking up "football for dummies" on Youtube, just so I would understand the significants of a 90 yard touch down. My other daughter hears us and comes running into the living room, hollering, "Why are you two talking about football, when you aren't into sports what so ever?" Thankfully, do to my daughter's eye sight and Youtube, I got it. Now, all I can think of is wow, I sure could have acted more impressed when he told me about his 90 yard touch down. LOL

Proof number 3.
This evening, I sent a portion of today's writings to one of my best friends who is also my editor. She hadn't had time to read and comment, by the time I contacted her. You know what I almost said? Ahem, I almost said, "I don't need to hear whether it is good or not; I already know it is good." Yeah, if that isn't crazy, ain't nothing crazy. LOL

See what I mean? I just gave you 3 good reasons why I might be "off my trolly" as they say in England. There is hope, though, and knowing this, I have confidence that all will work out in the end. The story will get written, because it's the Lord's will, and He will make sure His will gets done. There will be another project for me to obsess over, when this book is finished. I know this because there is one waiting in the wings, already.  And, lastly, the New Testament is full of verses that begin with the phrase, "And it came to pass". Notice, it did not come to stay. It came to pass. This crazy season will not last forever. Just gotta work while it is day and pray all night long. :)

Now, I know last week I promised a post about what is going on around here, and I will write that post. But, since I have been writing so much...like as in seven pages since Saturday morning...I can't put together anymore than what I'm putting together right now. Not real sure, but I'm thinking those seven pages equals about six thousand words. So thankful for you, faithful readers for sticking with me. Hopefully, I will be able to put together a more coherent post next week. Until then, keep praying, keep reading and gear up for an awesome story based on a real life hero.

Be blessed.

Advice From Master Yoda

Disclaimer: The quotes in this post may not be completely accurate.

I had a rough day. Stressed because I’m always stressed when the teacher reviews my girls’ homeschool portfolios, I did not sleep well last night. Nervous, I couldn’t eat much except a peanut butter and jelly sandwich this morning. We were getting the books put into the waiting bag, when my oldest spills water on her science notebook, pretty much ruining it. Then, I cut my finger on the end of my mandolin string while hurrying to put it back in its case. Wrapping a bandaid around it, I hurried to grab my bags, when my aunt says, “Aren’t you going to change your shirt?” It is certain I would have walked right out that door with a stained up shirt, if she had not stopped me. The first book the teacher opens shows correct answers but no proof that those answers were not obtained by cheating. My youngest was put on the spot, something that freezes her up. All was cleared up, yet, I knew, somehow, I had failed. Afterward, I thought to buy milkshakes to celebrate finishing the school year. But, since I didn’t buy what my oldest wanted from the place she wanted it from, she wouldn’t take anything from anyone or from anywhere. Once again, I failed. We came home and began clearing out the cabinet where I keep school supplies, only to realize we can’t find the book I purchased a month ago. Failed, again. I despaired that this day would ever be redeemed.

During supper and subsequent dish washing, Star Wars played on the TV. I prayed, kept reminding myself it would all be OK, and sat down with a second glass of sweet tea. Then, I turned my attention to the current movie and found some encouragement.

I am not an avid fan, and I don’t have the script memorized, but what I heard was this…if I remember correctly.

Luke Skywalker says, “Well, I’ll try.”

Yoda replies, “No. Do. There is no try.”

A conversation takes place where Luke says it’s too big of a job, and Yoda says something about size having nothing to do with it. Then, Yoda raises the spaceship out of the water. I know this, because I asked my husband what happened. LOL Anyway, at the end, Luke says, “I can’t believe it.” Whereupon Yoda replies, “That is why you fail.”

Suddenly, it hit me. Exactly who is living in me, seeing as how I call myself a Christian? If the force within me is the Lord Jesus Christ, who, BTW has no dark side, then why am I calling myself a failure? I had just been telling myself during dish washing that I would try to do better next year. But, according to Master Yoda, “There is no try.” And, the reason I fail is because of unbelief.

I will not try to do better next time. I will do better, because I know how to fix this year’s mistakes. I will not fail, because I am not trying to make my kids perfect students. I will succeed, because I am teaching them how to be lifelong learners. Besides, the Lord didn’t tell me to make my children happy or make them smart or even make them good at a particular subject. Nope. He told me to teach them. He told me to present the gospel to them. He told me to love them. As long as I do that, I am a success.

On this day twenty years ago, I donned a cap and gown and walked across a stage to receive my high school diploma. I was salutatorian, which is a fancy way of saying my grade point average was the second highest in my class. I had to give a speech, I remember, and it’s topic was success. Yeah, like I knew anything at eighteen, but still… LOL I can’t help but look back over the years and wonder at how far I’ve come. Part of me wants to smack that girl up side the head for being so arrogant. Then, I turn around, look at my own two girls and think, “Wow, how can I be the best mom to them?” Once again, Master Yoda’s words come back to me. “There is no try.” So, here’s to Yoda, my merciful heavenly Father and a good batch of homemade pizza cooked by my amazing husband. I’m going to be all right.

Tomorrow, I’m going to pick up that mandolin and work on those tremolos. I’m going to work on the fiction story I started a few months ago and the nonfiction story I started a few weeks ago. I’m going to love my family, come up with an inexpensive way to have a good supper when my man comes home, and I’m going to work on the blog post for my other blog. BTW, if you want to read it, you can find it at adkinsandwells.blogspot.com.

So, until next time, keep on keeping on, and when life gets tough, eat some pizza and watch a Star Wars movie. :)

You Got to Give Them A Turn

Today, while sitting in a Wendy's parking lot, my mom slid her key into the ignition and tried to start the car. Once, twice, three times and nothing happened. The key would not turn. We made sure doors were shut, the trunk and gas cap were shut. We each took turns trying, thinking that surely one of us had to be doing it wrong. Not knowing what else to do, I called my husband who is a parts manager at a Mitsubishi dealership.

"Is the car in park? he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"What about the brake?"

Being blind, I thought, well, good grief what's that got to do with it, but repeated what my mom said about how it wouldn't move very much.

"What about the steering wheel?" my husband asked, next.

"It's not straight," I said.

"Ok," he told me, "you got to put some muscle into turning the wheel and turning the key at the same time."

I tucked the phone against my shoulder, grabbed the steering wheel with my left hand and gripped the key in between my right thumb and first finger and gave them both a turn. With little effort at all, both the wheel and key turned, and we were able to leave the Wendy's.

It's a little sad how proud of myself I was. But, then I got to thinking, that life is kind of like that. We can try to steer all we want, but if the key to life hasn't been engaged, we are going nowhere. We can engage the keys to life, but if we never use the steering wheel, there will be no control. Until we put both hands into it and give both a turn, we will be forever sitting in the parking lot, watching others come and go.

It's been a long day. Took my girls to a museum, shopping, out for lunch and then came home to gather up some things to give to a friend. My man brought pizza home for supper, the girls went to Vacation Bible School, and I talked on the phone a bit then washed up the dishes. I'm tired and so ready for bed. Then, I remembered my blog. :)

So, is there a Bible lesson here? Sure. But, it's up to you to find it, this time and let me know what you come up with. The brain stopped working a while ago.

However, before I go, I just want to let y'all know I am coming up with a post to let you in on what's happening around here. Got a presentation coming up in September, a couple new books on the horizon, and who knows what else. Good stuff that I am excited about. So,, stay tuned. That post will most likely be up in a couple of weeks. Next Tuesday is portfolio review day, so I'll be running around like a crazy person until then. :)

Take care, sorry this post is so late, and keep the faith.

Note to Self

“Note to self…” You’ve heard that saying before, I’m sure. Probably even said it, yourself. That’s part of what I’m going to talk about today. So, with that in mind, let’s jump in and start each of the next few paragraphs with the phrase “Note to self”.

If it seems too good to be true, then chances are it is too good to be true. A publishing company who will edit, format, distribute, sell and promote your book all for $999 is quite possibly trying to rip you off. After getting scammed by a publishing company back in 2009 and then self publishing three books with the help of a friend, I think I’d rather go with my gut here.

If you spend a lot of time talking to folks about their lives so you can write their story, chances are you will think about them all night long. This is not a hardship, BTW. It’s a great opportunity to pray. However, when you start talking about them all the time, then it’s probably best to back off so they won’t think you are a stalker. :)

If you drink caffeinated beverages all day, then you’re going to be awake most of the night, unable to shut off your brain.

If you don’t turn on the dryer, the clothes will remain wet. I know this is like duh, but I just thought I’d add it here.

If you want to feel God’s Holy Spirit moving, then open your mouth and praise Him. He is worthy to be praised. Amen?

If you don’t turn on the crockpot, your food will not get cooked. Again, I hear you saying “well, duh”, but stick with me; I do have a point to all this.

Talking about doing something is all fine and good, but it won’t amount to anything if I don’t get my hands in there and do it. We’re having homemade soup for dinner, hopefully. I cut up the potato, opened a couple of cans and mixed it all up with the left over roast we had Sunday. But, if I had sat on my couch and talked about it without doing anything, we would be hungry come dinnertime.

The same goes with doing laundry or writing a book. Talking about writing is easy. Writing the words down, now that takes some effort. Sometimes, I wish the words would go from my brain right to the page, but it never happens. I actually have to put my fingers on the keyboard and type out words. *gasp* LOL

Even after the words are on the page, most of the time they need edited. I misspell them, get them backward and often just plain get them wrong. But, thankfully there is a delete button.

Sometimes in life, there is no delete button. In fact, we only get one life to live. No do-overs. We can go back and apologize for hurtful words, we can ask the Lord to forgive us, and He will, but we can never go back and redo the past. Hindsight might be 20/20, but the future is uncharted territory, and our only guide is the one who is, who was and who is to come.

So, keep making those notes to yourself, don’t forget where you came from, but, more important, don’t be afraid to grab hold of God’s big, warm hand and step out into the future. It might be scary, but He has more out there for you than you have ever dreamed of.

Thanks for being with me today. I would love to hear from you, so drop me a comment. Y’all take care and remember to pray for each other.

Happy Mother's Day

_{Happy Mother’s Day to all moms out there! So glad you could join me. Today, I have a gift just for you, faithful readers. Excerpts. Yep, you heard me. Free excerpts of my books, all of them focusing on moms and mothering.}

_{The three ladies you are about to meet are as different as night and day, yet they have one thing in common; all of them take on the care of someone in need of a mother. Maggie Scott is a mom and an aunt. Dr. Faith Valentine takes on the responsibility of ten orphaned children who live next door. Lady Ann MacQueen Davidson is a widow living in her brother’s home with her teenager son. Now that I think of it, these ladies have something else in common; all are believers. Oh, and one more thing, all are fictional. They weren’t created with anyone special in mind, but as I read over these excerpts, I can’t help but remember what my life was like while I wrote about them and see characteristics of folks I either know or once knew.}

_{Living several miles away from her 18-year-old daughter, Maggie Scott from "Wild Heart"} is a seamstress. In the scene you are about to read, her nephew and former neighbor have just arrived unexpectedly in the night. Maggie first came West on the California trail back in 1850. In the 1860’s, she moved with her husband and daughter to Wyoming to ranch. Now, she is living in New Mexico near her ailing brother. She loves to feed people, and she makes no secret about being a matchmaker. She rather puts me in mind of my Papaw’s sister who insisted on feeding you every time you came to her house. Come with me to Maggie’s cozy kitchen.

Maggie reached into her cupboard and retrieved three mugs.  After pouring the coffee, she placed the hot mugs before her guests, and then began to slice the cinnamon cake.  When everyone was served, including herself, she sat down and asked, "So, what brings the two of you to Silver City?”

She watched with curiosity as the young people at her table looked at one another.  Shewana opened her mouth to reply, but Gage beat her to it.

"We were just passing through on our way to Cheyenne," he said.

Maggie gave him a look that said more plainly than words, "Sure you are.”

Gage met her gaze and tried to tell her with his eyes to let it alone, but apparently she either didn't understand, or she didn't care.

"Going to Cheyenne?" she asked.  "Well, that's nice.  Shewana, your brother's up there, isn't he?  Well, so if you're going to Cheyenne, where are you coming from?”

"Coming from?" Gage asked, not sure he understood her question.

"Yes, coming from," Maggie reiterated.  "Where did you two meet up?  In Texas?"  Then, as a thought struck her, she asked, incredulously, "You two aren't married, are you?”

Shewana choked on her bite of cake, and Gage's eyes grew wide.  Maggie enjoyed watching them, even though she knew it wasn't really all that funny.

After a silence that seemed to go on forever, Shewana managed, "Married?  Uh, no, Maggie, we are most definitely not married.  Whatever gave you that idea?”

"Well," Maggie said, "I've never seen the two of you together.  In fact, I didn't even know the two of you knew one another.  I just…”

"It’s ok, Maggie," said Gage, rising to his feet.  "Shewana's right.  We're not married; we're just traveling together.  I'm going to carry our bags upstairs.  I'll be back in a minute.”

Hurriedly standing to her feet, Shewana said, embarrassed, "I think I'll go up with you.  I'm sort of tired.  Thanks for the coffee and cake, Maggie.  I hope you will excuse me turning in so early.”

Knowing that there was more here than what met the eye, Maggie decided to wait until she had Gage alone to press further.  Aloud, she said, "No problem, Honey.  You sleep as long as you like.”

Faith Valentine from "To Tame A Heart" is a physician in a town where no one has ever heard of a woman doctor. The orphans who are her neighbors keep her hopping, but she wouldn’t trade them for a moment. If she could, she’d take them all in as her own. While I am eternally grateful the Lord only blessed me with two children, Faith’s busyness of always cleaning up after sick folks puts me in mind of myself when my girls were small. LOL Seems like I was always wiping up messes on the floor, changing diapers and walking the floors at night. Let’s go see what Faith and the children are into now.

When the door was opened, she stared in puzzlement at the four smallest children from the orphanage: Megan, Blake, Tracey and Kierstin.

"Good morning," she greeted.  "Is there something wrong?"

Why are they looking so serious?

Pulling her thumb out of her mouth with an audible pop, little Kierstin said, "There's a big fight down by the jail and Candace says you need to come."

"At this hour?" she asked, incredulous.  "But, who…  Why me?"

"Cause somebody beat Colbey up," the child answered before replacing her thumb in its customary place.

"Oh for pity sake!" Faith exclaimed, before slamming her door, lifting her skirts and running with the children toward the jail.

What kind of trouble has that boy caused this time?

Reaching the middle of town, all Faith could see was a crowd of people.  They were standing around something or someone, but she could not see over them, not at first.

"Let me through," she commanded, shoving shoulders aside.

The people moved apart, allowing her amidst them.

There was indeed a big fight, or rather, there had been.  Now all she saw were bloody faces and a motley group of boys and girls standing around a single figure who lay silent in the mud.

Kneeling at his side, Faith touched a finger to Colbey's neck and was glad to feel a strong, if rapid, heartbeat.  He looked awful, blood and bruises all over his face and his clothes all torn and muddy. But, he was alive.

Glancing up, she met Ruby's green eyes and commanded, "Go get me some water, Ruby.  Candace," she said to the teenager whose face was tear-streaked, go get my bag for me."

The children were not long in obeying; they knew her well and knew she meant for them to hurry.

"Colbey!" Faith called kindly, wiping away the dirt and blood from his face, "Colbey, wake up.  Come on, Son, open your eyes and talk to me."

Then, as Candace handed her the bag, she grabbed up a bottle of ammonia.  She uncorked it, passed it beneath her patient's nose and called out, "Colbey!  Come on, Colbey!"

Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he tried to sit up.

"Careful, there," she said, steadying him with a hand to his shoulder.

He turned his head and tried to meet her gaze, but his eyes were swelling shut fast.

Colbey," she began, gently, taking his hand, "Colbey, do you think you can stand up?"

He nodded, so she and Candace helping, he managed to get to his feet.  They steadied him and, glancing around at the staring faces, Faith asked, "Is anyone else injured?"

No one answered.  They just stood there like knot heads and stared wide-eyed at her.

"What?" she asked in exasperation.

"Ain't you even going to go in and check on your husband?" a male voice asked from somewhere in the crowd.

Her husband?

Glancing around, she looked for Deric, but did not see him.  Then, her eyes were drawn to the barred window near the corner of the jailhouse.  And there, looking out upon the scene in the street with troubled eyes was Deric Christy.  He was unshaven and still wearing the clothes he had worn the day before.  When their eyes met, she felt her face burn with shame and not a little anger.

"Uh, Miss…  Uh, Doctor, if you'd like, I'll help you get this young man home.  We can talk then.”

Lady Ann from "A Moment in Time" has lost her husband, and now her son is critically injured. The woman she is trusting to care for her only son has strange ways about her, but since her brother trusts this new person in their midst, Lady Ann must trust as well. I tried to think of someone who reminds me of her, but she is original, unlike anyone I know.  Come with me back to 15th century Scotland where Lady Ann’s son is being cared for by a 21st century American.

Even before my fingers touched the young man’s brow, I knew we were in trouble. I bit down on my bottom lip and ordered my face not to show any emotion.

"Mayhap he is in need of more of your wee rocks?”

The trembling voice of Lady Ann from somewhere behind me penetrated through the fear choking me and I turned to her.

She looked like she was about to cry. Twisting a handkerchief between shaking hands, her blue eyes implored me to do something.

"My lady," I said, having no idea how I managed to sound so calm and respectful, "If you could reach my hand bag over here, I’ll have your son resting quietly in no time.”

"Aye, Annie, get Mistress Bronwen her things.”

I flashed Himself a grateful glance, then turned back to the bed.

When Lady Ann handed me my bag, I tried to talk her and her brother in to leaving me to my work, but the expression in the laird’s eyes told me he knew there was reason for concern. Geordy’s mother and uncle were going nowhere.

I knew what I would find when I unwrapped the bandages, and I was right; the wounds were swollen, warm to the touch and reddened. One of the gashes was beginning to ooze yellow pus. Not taking my eyes from the affected area, I reached a hand toward my bag. This young man was going to need that codeine in order to make it through the coming ordeal.

Instead of the well-worn denim of my shoulder strap, however, my hand was grasped and a bottle placed in my palm. I glanced up only to see Colin’s somber face. He wrapped my fingers around the plastic bottle of pills and pushed it toward me.

"Nephew," he said, voice full of tenderness, "ye need to swallow more rocks, and Mistress Bronwen needs to fix up your wounds.”

"Aye, uncle, I know," came the whispered reply from the bed.

"It’s going to hurt, laddy.”

"Aye, well, she better get to it before I lose my courage.”

The difficulty was not the task of washing the wounds with whisky. No, that was the easy part. The difficult part was seeing Geordy’s pain. The codeine hadn’t had time to start working on his system, and, braw lad that he was, he had still needed his uncle to hold him down during the worst parts. Honestly, I don’t know who cried more, Lady Ann or me. By the time I had spread a thick layer of antibiotic cream on the wounds and wrapped clean bandages around them, all four of us were damp with perspiration and dragging with fatigue.

I slumped on to a stool and leaned my back against the stone wall, closing my eyes.

"Will... Will Geordy be all right?”

Clutching the shoulder strap of my bag, I wanted so much to lie to Lady Ann, but I couldn’t.

Opening my eyes, I met her gaze head on.

"Only time will tell," I said, then shut my eyes against her pain.

The sound of pouring liquid came to my ears and then Colin’s voice.

"Take a drink, Annie.”

"I dinna want it," she said.

"I dinna care what ye want. Drink it. Ye are no help to anyone if ye dinna take care of yourself.”

She must have obeyed, because the next time I heard him speak, his tone was more gentle.

I looked, and the MacQueen was lowering his sister to the pallet I had slept in the night before. He touched her cheek, told her to rest, then stepped away and faced me.

Any woman can be a mother, but it takes a real woman to be a real mom. I think it’s rather funny, sometimes when I look back at my own childhood. As a youngster, I thought my mom had it figured out. Then, I became a teenager and Mom didn’t know a thing. Now that I have girls of my own, I realize, we all have one thing in common; we are all just trying to do our best and figure it out as we go. A newborn will teach you that you don’t know anything. A busy toddler will teach you what it means to be alert. A preteen will teach you that only God can convict your child and know what and who they are talking to when you aren’t around. My oldest will be twelve in August, so I’m sure there’s more learning up around the bend, but for now, I gotta go on what I know. Only way I know to do that with any peace is to put my trust in the one who created us. He is ever faithful, and it is His will that my girls trust in Him.

I hope you have enjoyed this post, and i pray you’ll make Jesus the Lord of your life. Be sure and join me each Tuesday. I don’t always know what I’m going to say, but I post something each week. Take care, be blessed and hug your mama, if she is still living. If she isn’t, here’s a big ole hug from me. XX

On Teeth, Circus Trains, Editing and Writing

Teeth. Pearly whites. Chompers. Whatever you like to call ‘em, I got a drill taken to one this morning, and my youngest lost one of hers this afternoon. The problem? Food. Too many sweets caused my difficulty; Swedish Fish helped my daughter with hers.

The circus. No, not the one often taking place around here. The real one. The Ringing Brothers and Barnum and Bailey one. The one who, after nearly a century and a half of entertaining children of all ages is calling it quits has come to my part of the world. The train passed my house by the railroad tracks just a little while ago. My oldest daughter caught it on camera. When the noise of its passing had calmed down, my children were excited to tell me how the people on the train were waving and hanging out of windows. One guy even held out his GoPro on a selfie stick. When I listened to the video later, I could hear them hollering. The show is this weekend, and our tickets have already been purchased. As a blind person, I get very little out of it, but I do like the music. My girls are thrilled.

Writing. Well, writing and editing. Editing on the manuscript which is about 497 pages long and writing on a new story which is about 20 pages so far. From American Civil War to 18th century American colonies. Before that, it was Scottish time travel romance. Told a lady at the dentist’s office this morning, “I’m all over the place.” LOL But, I think I got off topic, because I was talking about writing and editing. So, for a while I edited the story that takes place during the Civil War. Then, I went to my 18th century story, the one I started here on this blog and wrote a few lines. My friend says I’m talented. I think I’m just crazy. :)

I wrote a post a while back about how I went from Westerns to time travel. Soon, I’ll tell you how I went from Scottish time travel to the Civil War. The road wasn’t long, but the research sure took me to some strange places…most of them online. :) The reenactment at Carnifex Ferry was awesome, though. Standing in the rain, the sound of the guns loud enough to be felt in my chest, friends with me who enjoy talking about it all, it gave me inspiration for one of the battle scenes. No, my characters are not at Carnifex Ferry, WV; they are at the battle of Shiloh, but I think it turned out pretty good. More to come later, so no worries. Just trying to wet your appetite.

The dryer is working away, the chimes on my porch are providing occasional music in the background, my kids are waiting for time to go to Youth Meeting at a local church, and I’m thinking that since I’ve been awake since 2:30 a.m., I might take a nap. Have a good week, and be sure to come back next Tuesday for some chatter about moms. There might even be a teaser from my up and coming book.

Blessings to you all.