Now available!

You can now buy the Woman in the Well (paperback) from Amazon or directly from the printer IngramSpark using this link

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?cP8y3Cx8lZDtSXa7Ft4MLs06lmSa9jvHKFk6OlThpUN

 

The eBook is also available on Amazon!

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Inspiring True Adventure Book on its way!

It's been almost 7 years since I posted a blog. The greatest adventure I had during that time was falling in a 54 foot old hand-dug well with 14 feet of  cold water at the bottom! I obviously survived, but only due to my husband's quick thinking, my brave neighbors, and my sheer determination. Look for my book coming soon, The Woman in the Well.

Spider Season

What is worse than finding a worm in your apple? 

Finding a half a worm. 

What is worse than finding a spider in your bath water as you are getting into the tub? 

Finding a spider in your bath water as you are getting OUT of the tub! 

This has happened to me twice in the past week! They are tiny babies. I find one daily in the tub and kill it, then search carefully before entering, and voilah! there is the interloper going down the drain when I'm done. My theory is that some mama spider exploded her nest in my bathroom, but I can't find the source. Perhaps they hide in the jets, then when I turn the jets on, one comes spewing out. Yuck!!! If my back and feet didn't ache so much at the end of a day, I might take a hiatus  from my Jacuzzi tub until spider season is over. 

In addition to these spiderlings, we are breeding giant Oregon house spiders. This season we have sent several to the built-in vacuum canister in the garage. My cousin Melody has one in the downstairs hall closet outside her bedroom that I call her pet. She leaves it there because she figures it eats the other little bugs. He cutely exposes about half his body and front legs. When you walk by, he ducks back into the closet. We murdered one that was waltzing across the family room floor last week. It was so huge that it was WAY bigger than the diameter of the vacuum hose. So after Melody calmly asked me to do it, and I was done screaming, Hubert did the deed. 

For a break from the house spiders, I make at least two trips a day to the barn. There in my tack room, I am breeding some horrid black spider with a big, fat body juicy enough to make a big mess if I smash it. My concrete floor now has black polka dots. When is spider season over?

Cousins, Condos, & Criminals

My husband, Hubert, and I planned a nice trip to California. Although it would be a working trip, we anticipated some fun and relaxation. It began with us spending a day with my 5th cousin whom I had never met before. We had a great day visiting with him and his wife at Burney Falls State Park - a beautiful place. We chatted for hours as though we had always known each other.

We then drove to Jamestown where I did three days of book signings. The first two were at the Railtown 1897 State Historic Park. That is always enjoyable as friendly families are there to ride the old steam train used in so many movies and TV shows. Since part of my novel, The Seamstress of Jamestown, involved the train first coming to Jamestown, it is a perfect place for interesting historical conversations. The workers there are full of old train lore, so I enjoyed the two day visit immensely.

  

The next day I signed books in front of the 1859 Historic National Hotel. Several chapters of my story take place there, including the true story of the origin of Flo, the ghost in residence there. I met other striving (or is that starving) authors and three town drunks, who were quite friendly and talkative. 

Then south to San Juan Capistrano to fix up our family condo. We spent a week unpacking boxes, cleaning, moving furniture, posting stuff to sell on Craig's List, hanging pictures, and reorganizing every closet. Tiring but rewarding. 

The trip home was to be uneventful and fast (for two old folks). We drove to Lodi and stayed in our favorite hotel, Motel 6. That is obviously not for the ambiance, but the price. We got in so late that we got the last room - a handicapped room. It was actually large, very clean, and quite nice. We also got the last spot in the parking lot. I made 4 trips to the car carrying in only what we needed for the night. We both brought in our overnight bags. I brought in my immersion mixer, measuring cup and spoon, ingredients for the Dr. Budwig muesli, homemade apple sauce, homemade beet juice, box of pills, my purse, plus all the meats & cheeses so they wouldn't go bad in the cooler in the car whose ice was already melted. It was about 90 degrees. Hubert wanted the car to cool down overnight so he left the windows cracked an inch. (I know, I know, you can see what's coming...)

In the morning, after we drank our beet juice, I made the muesli for Hubert. That was followed by him taking a plethora of pills with the apple sauce. I went to the car and put our green tote bag in the back seat. I closed the door. Something was wrong. I stood there and stared into the car.

The cooler was missing. It was one of those that you plug into the outlet and keeps food cold while the car is running. I then looked in the front seat & noticed the contents of the glove compartment strewn on the seat. The truth was clear. I went back to the room and told Hubert we had been robbed. I then went to the office and told the nice young gentleman there. The next few hours were spent with him, a nice police officer, and the manager who came in even though she wasn't scheduled. They spent much more time with us than I could imagine is normal. They showed us the photos taken by their new cameras, and posted them on Facebook and the bulletin board at the police department. We couldn't have had more kindness and concern if we were staying at a Hilton or Marriott. In the end, we lost the cooler, my laptop, and our GPS. I am very grateful they did not see my camera on the floor in front of the passenger seat - photos are a treasure to me. I am a little insulted that they didn't have any interest in taking a box filled with my fascinating novel. 

So, we've learned a few things that most of my readers probably already knew. Don't park near the walkway that goes through to a vacant lot with bushes to hide a criminal.  Don't leave windows open in the crime-infested region of Hwy. 99 in California's central valley. Fingerprints on a dusty surface cannot be lifted. The good news about our innocence is that they didn't have to break a window to get in. The video from the parking lot camera was interesting. A young man on a bicycle scouted the entire parking lot. He left. He came back with a buddy who used a tool to break in. They grabbed the items quickly and walked through the walkway and, hidden by the bushes, and were not seen again.
Wiser but poorer.

Oktoberfest to Nitro

I can't believe it's been nearly a year since I wrote a blog. It has been quite an adventure in 2015. In the first half of the year I was extremely busy with a little work and many volunteer and family commitments - those things that take up much of life but don't get you kudos except from those very close to you. By September my husband wasn't feeling well. We changed his diet and made a doctor appointment. We saw the primary care doctor, had fun at Oktoberfest in Mt.Angel, saw a specialist, then WHAM! We ended up in the emergency room with my husband popping nitroglycerin pills like candy on the drive there to no avail. There the real adventure began.

He ended up having an angiogram, quadruple bypass surgery, a mitrovalve repair, recovery time, skilled nursing facility, back to hospital, ablation, fluid drained from around lungs, skilled nursing facility, rehab...  I lived in the hospital with him and only came home from the nursing facility to sleep. Amazing what you can learn when you have to. I now know how to order healthy food from a hospital menu - not an easy trick. I know when the doctors do their rounds with the pharmacist and RN. I know what cholesterol, blood sugar and INR levels should be. I know how to wash, change clothes, brush teeth, and put on deodorant in a public restroom or behind a curtain in a hospital room without showing anything indecent.

Now we are going to cardiac rehab, diabetes classes, getting his INR checked weekly, checking his blood sugar multiple times a day, counting mgs. of sodium and grams of carbs, and taking meds.  This is the world many live in, but up until now, we have avoided it.

So as we age, we face new adventures, some pleasant, some less so; but they can all be learning experiences, and we can enjoy parts of even the unpleasant ones. Exercise is now necessary and actually fun. The nurses were wonderfully gentle and informative. The doctors were patient, cheerful, and encouraging. While I am grateful for the miracles wrought by the doctors and praying grandchildren, I am looking forward to more pleasant adventures in 2016.

Small Town Authors

Check out Small Town Authors http://smalltownauthors.blogspot.com/  I am the featured author for November. Thank you Audrey Austin!

Pig Bottles

My hope is that those who read this blog will realize that their own life is an adventure. Making a 2 year old giggle, finding the perfect gift for a friend, or watching the sunrise can be an adventure if we have the right attitude. When I sign my book I write, "Enjoy the adventure of life." That is truly my hope - that those who read my blog or The Seamstress of Jamestown will enjoy life to the fullest, seeing everyday events as adventures. But then there are the adventures that are so exciting you wish they weren't happening! These are unpleasant at the time but make great stories years later. So I will tell about an adventure that is interesting to me because it happened 30 years ago. That is enough time lapse to see it as a great story and not present trauma.

I was spending time alone at a nice hotel on the island of Kauai. It was really more like condos - a two-story structure with little apartments. There was an office where I could ask the manager for information. But I didn't need that! I was adventurous, and enjoyed exploring.

Every day I went on a little adventure. I would drive and sightsee until I reached an interesting spot, then hike a little. One day I took an unplanned hike down into Waimea Canyon. Not having intended to take a long hike, I only had one small plastic water bottle in my backpack which was 3/4 full. It was one of those trails that has a sign-in sheet at the top, so that if you disappear they know where to search for the body. On my hike down, I saw a large plastic water bottle hanging on a tree. It was a gallon jug hanging by its handle on a dead branch of a dried up tree - the only tree in sight. There was about an inch of warm water in the bottom. I made a mental note of it thinking I might find it useful on the way back up. I was passed by a man and his son on the way down but never saw them again, nor anyone else.

By the time I reached the bottom of the canyon, I was exhausted and HOT! My head was throbbing. I splashed myself with the creek water, even dunking my head to soak my hair. It didn't last long. I was soon as dry as the red dust that covered the canyon walls. The creek water was literally swimming with bugs. My California girl brain forbid me to drink it. I figured I could always drink that water in the tree bottle. Thirty years ago we didn't know there were carcinogenic PCB's in plastic bottles baking in the hot sun.

I started back up. The first quarter mile had some trees and shade. I picked up 2 pieces of fruit from the ground and put them in my backpack. I had no idea what they were. Why were they on the ground uneaten by the father-son pair or any wild animals? Perhaps they were poisonous. After that there was nothing but red sand trail, burning sunshine, throbbing head, and sitting to rest every quarter mile. I finally broke down and ate the fruit. I survived.

It didn't take long for that fruit liquid to dehydrate, but I was optimistic remembering the tree bottle. After many rest stops, I finally spied it. I forced myself to trudge to the little tree. The bottle was empty! How rude of someone to drink MY water. Obviously, I wasn't thinking very clearly by that time. I rested again then determined to make it about another quarter mile.

On the steep descent, there was one part of the trail that had been washed out. On my energetic beginning downhill, I leapt over the two-foot chasm with bravery. On the way back up, I was barely dragging my feet with every step. When I arrived there, I paused disheartened. There was no way I could leap over anything. It was the only way. So I mustered every ounce of energy I had left, threw my backpack over first, then took a slower than running start and just barely made it. I lay on the other side with my head pounding.

I continued my slow trek and finally arrived at the top of the trail. The sun was just setting. I signed the book so whoever cared would know I had made it out. I drove a little further up the road to a small store and got water. I drove many miles back to my hotel, slowly.

The following morning, I stopped in the office just to have someone to chat with about my adventure. They informed me that that tree bottle was called a "pig bottle." It was a plastic bottle left hanging on the tree by a wild pig hunter (wild pig or wild hunter? both). The manager said a pig hunter would just as soon shoot a haole (white foreigner) as a pig! They had 100 haoles that had "disappeared" on Kauai - bodies never to be found.

My husband says I must have a band of guardian angels. I plunge into life and think later. I never do anything that seems dangerous, such as bungee jumping, but manage to get myself into these adventures. Perhaps that is why I view life as an adventure. Or perhaps it is because I view life as an adventure that I get into these fixes. In any case, it's better that being bored. May you enjoy the adventure of life!