• “One of top 25 US speakers”

    — Sharing Ideas Magazine

  • “One of mystery’s rising stars.”

    — RT Reviews

  • Chicken Soup for the Soul Contributor

  • Endorsed by Toastmasters International

  • Silver Anvil Award Winner

  • 2009 Agatha Award Finalist

    Paper, Scissors, Death

  • 2013 Daphne du Maurier Award Winner

    Death of a Schoolgirl: Jane Eyre Chronicles

Coming Soon

Fatal, Family, Album

-Read More-

A New Leaf — A She Shed to Combat the Winter Blues


Every year, Miniatures.com challenges those of us who think “small” to take one of their kits and make it our own. This year’s kit was the “Serenity Shed.” Since I hate winter and being cold, I decided to make a place that I could mentally crawl into. A comfy spot full of plants, books, and lovely things. You can check out what I did by going to my Pinterest account http://www.pinterest.com/jcslan.

 

Boo to You, Too — A Halloween Scene in Miniature


For weeks now, I’ve been working on this Halloween scene. Let me walk you through it:

  1. The body of the bat is an empty plastic jug that contained protein powder.
  2. The head is two plastic cups, tin foil, card, and paper clay. The teeth are wire, covered with paper clay. The eyes are plastic, painted with nail polish.
  3. The wings are poster board, jointed with brads, highlighted with glitter glue.
  4. The image of the moon is painted plastic. A small bat is flying past. There are lights that light up the moon and the bat’s eyes.
  5. The platform was built up from layers of styrofoam and gatorboard. The flooring is a copied image. Under the base are pieces of egg carton that have been painted to look like stones.
  6. See?
  7. The window is layers of card, covered with wood filler.
  8. The witch was sculpted from paper clay (head) and polymer clay (hands and boots that don’t show). I made her, of course. Her broom is grass from the nearby landscapes and a twig. Her hat is posterboard.  Her hair is wool.
  9. The ghost was sculpted from polymer clay. The pot he’s in is quilled paper.
  10. My daughter-in-law Chelsea made the lamp. Isn’t it cute?
  11. The bookshelf was leftover from another project.
  12. See?
  13. The hanging cage has a polymer clay raven, and it’s attached to a plastic bone arm. The cage is made from crochet thread.
  14. I made the chair from a fat quarter of fabric. The rug is crocheted yarn wound in circles. The ottoman is cardstock and a button. The mushrooms are clay (they are green and purple).
  15. The planter was a cap, but I wound it around and around with colored string.

I hope you’ll consider voting for my project. You can vote as often as you want from now until Oct. 31, 2019.

Here’s the link for voting…http://wshe.es/pd9KQX3b

 

How to Turn a Box into a Dollhouse–Step by Step


A Quick Tutorial by Joanna Campbell Slan

Remember all those Christmases past when your kid had as much fun (or more) playing with the empty boxes after opening gifts? I felt like that this weekend.

My son and his wife sent me a lovely bouquet of flowers from a company called Farmgirl Flowers. Not only was the bouquet lovely, but it also included peonies, which are my favorite flowers ever. The stems were carefully packaged, wrapped in burlap, tied with a ribbon, and stuck inside a plastic baggie with a wet piece of foam. Around the whole gift was waxed paper with a pink cord. Inside was a cute tag with the logo “Coast to Coast” on it. Also, several cards with information about keeping the flowers fresh. Most intriguing for me was an invitation to re-use the burlap. Turns out, it’s biodegradable.

Huh.

I could do better than that.

RAW MATERIALS

I decided the box was perfectly sized for a two-story dollhouse.

ADDING A FLOOR AND CEILINGS

I began by measuring up 9″ from the bottom and making a second floor.

Using my gun glue, I added a piece of cardstock for stability. Then I cut a hole in a piece of foam core poster board, and dug out a channel with my craft knife.

LIGHTS

I threaded a cheap set of LED coin-battery lights through a hole in the back wall. (You can buy these in packages from Amazon for less than a buck each.) I hot-glued the battery pack to the back of my box. From there I nestled the cord with the lights in the channel in the foam poster board and pulled them down and out through the hole. I just let them dangle, free. Then I hot-glued the poster board channel side up (toward the cardstock) to the cardstock that I’d glued 9” from the bottom floor. That way the string of lights was concealed, but they came out through the hole in the white “ceiling.”   I did the same at the top of the box. Now I had one LED light strand on the top floor (18” from the bottom) and another in the ceiling of the first floor (9” from the bottom).

WALLPAPER AND FLOORING

Next I chose wallpaper and flooring. Scrapbook paper worked nicely. I mounted it on posterboard pieces and hot-glued those inside, againt the corrugated cardboard walls, because putting a thin paper straight on the corrugated cardboard would have made ridges in the walls. Then came flooring. The top floor was a piece of gray scrapbook paper marked in squares. The bottom floor was a color copy of a piece of white marble. As you can see, unfortunately, there’s a crease in the bottom floor, but I’ll work that out later.

DECORATING THE BEDROOM

I was ready to decorate! I’d already made a bed from a box. Yup. All furniture is essentially a box or one sort or another. You might have seen the bed before in another project. The headboard is that rounded tab that’s perforated in a box of tissues. (You remove it to get at the tissues.) I’d added trim (a piece of string) around the upper edge and painted the whole thing white. The rolled pillow is a tampon. (Unused, of course!) The pink chair was made with bits of wood and card.

The black vase of flowers at the far left started as a plastic cap. I added ribbon trim and fake plants. WALL ART/FIBRE ART

I tied strands of the pink cord and the burlap on a stick (grabbed from my yard) and wove it together before gluing on seashells.

LIGHT FIXTURES

The lampshade in the bedroom is a clear plastic cup covered with washi tape and trimmed in eyelet. First I cut a hole in the center bottom of the cup. Then I pulled those dangling LED lights through the hole. I wrapped the strand of lights into a bundle and glued them back into the cup with hot glue. That’s how I did the lights in the living room, too. That overhead light is another clear plastic cup. This one has more washi tape (A Dollar Store purchase) around it and added a ribbon trim. The see-through plastic cups make good fixtures when hot-glued to the ceilings.

DECORATIVE MIRROR

The mirror is the plastic lid to a cup, a small round mirror, trimmed with plastic twine, and painted black. Then I added a flower punched from cardstock and painted pinks and white.

FIREPLACE

The first floor fireplace took the most time. I used a Dollar Store picture frame cut down and glued to a small piece of wood. I added a piece of wood to the top to make a mantel. I trimmed the mantel and the bottom of each side of the fireplace surround with plastic twine. Then I painted the whole thing with gesso. While it was drying, I cut pressed paper egg carton pieces into “bricks.” I glued these on a piece of matt board. I painted them brick-like colors.

 

When the fireplace was dry, I painted it a yellowish-brownish- gray. I used a Sharpie marker around the trim to give it a bit of black definition. I glued the back piece (with fake egg carton bricks) to the fireplace and added a small twig from another trip to my yard.

ART SIGN ON THE MANTEL

On top of the mantel is part of the Flowergirl packaging, cut from the tag. It says, “We deliver Coast to Coast.” I cut out the words, rounded the corners, and backed it with an old coaster (pressed paper) from a restaurant visit.

SOFA

The sofa is made from a gray cotton napkin, one of a four-pack set I bought from Olde Time Pottery. Basically I wrapped and glued the fabric around two pieces of heavy cardstock topped with padding. A piece of cardstock shaped in an open box is the bottom piece around which gray material is glued for a “skirt.” The flat back side of the sofa is a piece of cereal box cut to size and covered. The padding on the cushions is the gray padding that kept the stems of my bouquet wet.

RUG

On the floor is a piece of burlap.

 


I’d still like to add more art and maybe a bookcase to the first floor, but for just working on this one weekend, I think it’s pretty cute. What do you think?

When a Man Comes to the Door with Pizza …Excerpt from Second Chance at Faith


In Second Chance at Faith: Book #4 in the Second Chance Series, Cara’s friends all tell her that she needs to “get out there” to find a guy. Honora even goes so far as to say, “A man isn’t going to come to the door, Cara.”

But maybe Honora is wrong…

EXCERPT

When the driver got closer, I could see he was tall and lean. His long legs made short work of the trip from the driveway to my door. He wore a jacket with a gray hoodie pulled up over his head, keeping his face a mystery. His jeans were clean, with a worn spot over one knee, and his tee fit him well—really well – stretching over nicely developed pectoral muscles. I opened my door just as he shook off the hood and revealed a pair of soft gray eyes. The driver gave me a friendly, lopsided smile. Gosh, was he ever cute!

“Delivery for Delgatto.”

His voice was warm and rich, like a glass of Malbec. I reached for the pizza as a crack of thunder rocked my world. Gerard howled in distress. Jack slipped past my legs and took off like a ball shot out of a cannon.

“Jack! Get back here!” I practically tossed the pizza box onto my kitchen counter. “Jack!” I yelled, focusing on a flicker of white, which I presumed to be Jack’s tail. It bounced toward the bushes that bordered my garage. Pushing past the delivery guy, I sprinted into the night.

“Jack!” I screamed while thunder boomed in the distance.

Normally that’s enough to bring him running.

Not tonight.

He was spooked by the weather. As a rescue who’d been tossed from a moving pickup truck, Jack has little reason to trust people. When I first got him, Pete had explained that the little dog’s default behavior would always be to flee when scared. I mentally kicked myself for letting Jack get out. I should have closed him up in my bedroom before opening the front door.

“Jack? Jack?” I stumbled around in the dark, moving steadily in the direction where Jack had disappeared. The gravel driveway was wet and slick under my feet.

The delivery guy appeared out of nowhere. He waved a utility flashlight with a honking huge lightbulb. “This might help.”

What irony! The day I arrived in South Central Florida, Skye had come to my rescue with a similar flashlight. That fateful event marked the beginning of our friendship.

The pizza guy noticed my reaction. “I’ve been told that flashlights are to Floridians like snow shovels are to Minnesotans. A staple of every household.”

“Could you shine it toward the bushes? I think Jack’s in there.”

He trained the cone of light on the thick foliage. “By the way, I’m Dan,” said the driver with a nod. “I take it your dog’s a rescue?”

“I’m Cara. Yes. I saw him getting thrown out of a truck.”

“Poor little guy. Probably looking for shelter. Who knows what rotten stuff happened to him in his short little life?”

I agreed.

Dan did a slow sweep of the bushes with the flashlight. “Nothing there. Wait! I think I see a flash of white in those crotons.”

“Jack hates thunder. He’s probably huddled under the branches.”

“Do you have anything to lure him out?” Dan and I stood elbow to elbow, our eyes trained on that triangle of soft light. “A treat maybe? A favorite toy?”

“Maybe.” I breathed in slowly, trying to calm myself. Jupiter Island is a very dangerous place for a dog who weighs less than three pounds. There are raccoons, possums, coyotes, Bufo toads, and Florida panthers. There are also hawks and eagles. Given his small size, Jack would make a tasty hors d’oeuvre.

“This isn’t good. He’s so small.”

“We’ll find him.” Dan sounded confident. He smelled of a nice cologne; a hint of green, a dash of patchouli, and an undertone of musk. “You need the right bait. Something irresistible.”

“Jack has a Lamb Chop stuffed toy that he absolutely loves. Do you know Lamb Chop? Like Shari Lewis had on her TV show?”

“Your pup is a man after my own taste. I had a huge crush on Miss Shari. Told my mom I was going to marry her one day. Why don’t you run back inside and grab his toy? Along with a treat? I’ll keep an eye on him in case he darts out.” Rain dribbled down Dan’s face as he talked.

My shoes squished as I ducked inside the house and grabbed Lamb Chop. On my way out the door, I grabbed that dried up American cheese from my refrigerator. Jack loves it cheese better than any other treat.

The rain was coming down heavily. The worst was yet to come. I wondered how many other people had ordered pizzas. They must be wondering where their food was.

“Look, my dog’s not your responsibility,” I told Dan as I displayed the stuffed toy and the yellow cheese.

“Yeah, he kind of is. At least that’s the way I see it. I’m going to turn my car around so my headlamps shine into those crotons. You’ll need to keep an eye on your driveway. I don’t want to run over your dog.”

We walked to his Volvo to check for Jack. As I got next to the red car, I saw three quilted, heat-retaining bags. “You’ve got more deliveries to make!

“Yes.” He climbed into the driver’s seat.

“You’d better go.”

“Your dog is my priority. Here. Take the flashlight.”

Rather than argue, I kept a lookout for Jack while Dan executed a three-point turn. His lights hit the low thick undergrowth. When he flipped them to high beam, I saw a shivering shape huddled in the hollow of a fallen palm tree.

“Jack?” I approached him slowly, keeping the beam of the flashlight on him while the water ran into my eyes. “Cheesie treats. Look, I’ve got Lamb Chop. See? Come on.”

Dan wisely stayed far behind me so he wouldn’t scare my dog.

Jack’s eyes glittered with fear—until he smelled the cheese and came running. I dropped to my knees and scooped him up, dropping the flashlight as I did. Dan crept over cautiously and picked up the flashlight.

“Let’s get you two into the house.” Dan aimed the light so I could see where I was going. Jack gnawed at his stinky treat. We were both shaking. I’d been scared witless that I’d lose that little squirt. Once again, I was struck by the irony of my situation. I’m not really a small dog person. Nevertheless, Jack has become dear to me. Isn’t that the way of life? To love, we must invest our time and energy.

“You’ve got him?” Dan was a respectful ten feet behind me.

“Yes. Thank you so much. Turning your car around was such a smart idea.”

“You’re very welcome.”

A stiff wind threw a sheet of rain into our faces.

“Got to run. Have a good night,” said Dan, as he sprinted toward his car.

As he pulled away, I realized I hadn’t paid for my food.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Second Chance at Faith is LIVE and FREE with #KindleUnlimited! The rest of the series is in KU too, so get clicking!!

Amazon — https://amzn.to/2Gahlnr

 

 

 

25 Reasons to Love Audiobooks


(And how to make them more affordable once you do fall in love with them.)

1. You can listen to an audiobook while you fold clothes.
2. You can learn how to correctly pronounce words from audiobooks.
3. No one knows what you’re listening to, so you can choose your genre/book title without embarrassment.
4. Audiobooks don’t collect dust.
5. An exciting audiobook will keep you alert when you’re driving.
6. You don’t need to buy a nightlight to “read” your book.
7. You will never need to find a bookmark to mark your place.
8. You can fool people into thinking you have company if you turn up the volume on your audiobook real loud.
9. You won’t stumble over the foreign words if you hear them said properly, so you can learn to drop cool foreign phrases like a native.
10. An audiobook never needs to be weighed down while you’re reading it because the pages don’t pop shut automatically. Makes it great for “reading” while taking a bath.
11. You can wear earphones to hear your audiobook and pretend you are listening to cool music.

12. You can buy a really long and educational book and listen to it while doing tiresome chores, so that you can learn something while doing boring stuff.
13. Audiobooks don’t pile up next to your bed and threaten to topple over.
14. An audiobook fits neatly inside your cell phone.
15. You never need to build new bookshelves for audiobooks.
16. Marie Kondo won’t know if you own more than 30 books.
17. You’ll never attract silverfish to your home like with paper books.
18. Audiobooks aren’t as heavy as hardback books.
19. It takes longer to listen to an audiobook than to read it, so it lasts longer.


20. You can share an ebook by playing it out loud for your friends. It’s so easy.
21. In fact, why not have a party and invite friends over to listen to your ebook?
22. If you sign up for Audible, you get two free books just for signing up.
23. If you first buy the Kindle ebook then you can add Audible narration (i.e. the Audible audiobook from ACX) at a discounted price.
24. If you do find a series you love and want to listen to all of it on Audible, here’s a neat work-around. It is cheaper to try the first book in a series and if you like the series – get Kindle Unlimited for one month, download the ebooks for the series and then buy the rest of the series on Audible for $1.99 each. In this example, the Kindle books are $5.99 without unlimited but free with it. Buying each Kindle book for say, 5 books would be $5.99 plus $1.99 times five for a total of about $40. With one month of Kindle Unlimited it would be $9.99 once plus $1.99 times five. Comes out to about $20 this way, a savings of around $20.
25. You can gift someone an audiobook—but that person can receive only ONE audiobook gift from you. (Of course, that person can receive a gift from another friend. Just not two gifts from you.)

This is a long way of saying, “I’ve got a new audiobook!” You can listen to a short sample of it here: 01 Paper Scissors Death – Book 1 in the Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series.m4b 

(You’ll need to copy and paste the audio sample address that’s blue and above into your URL search board. I suggest you use Firefox as your browser for best results.)

Https://ADBL.com/2SINEKR

We’re having a party to celebrate the release—so mark your calendars for Friday, January 25, 2019 at 8 p.m. EST.

I’ll be giving away one dozen Georgetown Cupcake cupcakes. Oh, my gosh, if you haven’t had them…you’re going to think you’ve gone to heaven!!

Here’s the address: http://www.facebook.com/groups/TheRomanceRoom

You can attend while wearing your pajamas. The Romance Room is a “group” which means that Facebook wants you to “join” before you can see the content, so I urge you to join in advance!

I hope to see you there!

Joanna

PS. If you can’t join us, you can go to Rafflecopter to sign up to win the cupcakes. Here’s that address: http://gvwy.io/neeu0s3

 

A Lesson in Living Mindfully: Right here. Right now.


By Joanna Campbell Slan

The Friday after Thanksgiving kicks off the selling season for all sorts of merchants. Pianos are no exception. My husband couldn’t leave his music store to travel with me to Florida, where my mother and two sisters lived. To be honest, I couldn’t take time off. Not really. I was working for a newspaper, and since the news is published every day, holidays didn’t really exist. When you work for a daily newspaper, you live for tomorrow, the next day when the paper will come out. You are trained not to live in the here and now. As an advertising rep, I was always thinking ahead and never stopping to evaluate the present. My income came from thinking ahead, and not looking behind.

The Alternative to Family Time

I told myself that eating at a nice restaurant would be fine. The appetizers were plentiful, the wine flowing, and a glass of champagne was in order. The turkey was moist, the gravy rich, and the pecan pie was syrupy good. But with every morsel, I wished myself somewhere else. I pictured my mother tossing celery and onions in a bread stuffing that scented the air with sage. I watched my sister making a yucky face as she cut up giblets and dropped the pieces in chicken broth to make the gravy. I could hear my other sister clanking the silverware as she set the table. Nothing that fancy restaurant could cook would taste as good as the food served by my family. Nothing.

Everything Changes

I didn’t pout through our Thanksgiving feast, but after the meal when we were home, I escaped into the shower and cried quietly, feeling very sorry for myself. The hunger inside was the realization that life was changing. The days of being a nuclear family–me, my mom, and my sisters–was over. We’d pulled together after my father left us. We’d gone on welfare. We’d struggled. We knew how far we’d come, and no one else would ever share that particular memory or the grit that came along with it.

Reality versus My Fantasies

That evening after the phone rates went down, I called my sister Meg and reported that I’d had a nice Thanksgiving. With trepidation in my voice, I asked, “How about you? Tell me all about it.” I steeled myself for hearing about the traditional green bean casserole, the special pumpkin cake, and that giblet-based gravy. I waited and tried not to feel sad.

“We decided not to make dinner today. It was too much work. We ate at Cracker Barrel,” she said.

“What?” I was sure that I’d misunderstood her. “Cracker Barrel?”

“Yeah. It was fine, actually. I got some of my Christmas shopping done early.”

The Lesson I Learned

Then it hit me that I’d wasted a perfectly good Thanksgiving by wishing it away. I’d mourned for something that hadn’t happened, and in doing so, I’d missed the chance to be grateful for what I had.

Every Thanksgiving since that, I hear the words, “We ate at Cracker Barrel” in my head. No matter where I am, no matter who I’m with, I’ve learned to give thanks for what I have. Right here. Right now.

**

And today’s a perfect day to read a short story about Thanksgiving: “Cara Mia Delgatto and the Thanks giving Gift” https://www.amazon.com/Cara-Delgatto-Thanksgiving-Short-Story-ebook/dp/B00PSJ6QTC/

Update on my life late August 2018


Hi, My Sweeties—

I’m feeling swamped. Sigh. As always. But here goes…

1. I’m working on The Best of British Scrapbooking and Cardmaking to get it ready to re-publish. It’s not up yet on Amazon, because we still have some formatting issues, but when it’s up, I’d appreciate you posting a review.

2. I had to stop everything and re-edit Tear Down and Die because someone complained to Amazon about the “quality.” What exactly did that mean? It means that I had two words missing and one phrase repeated. Yeah. That’s it. I laughed like crazy because I’ve read traditionally published books with bigger errors. In fact, I just finished reading The Ghost War by Alex Berenson where he says that Aldrich Ames didn’t have any children. He did. A son. That’s a pretty big and pretty easily checked mistake. So I went back, re-edited the entire Cara Mia book because I couldn’t help myself. Now I have to have a formatting specialist look at it because I cannot get the page numbers to show up. That’s kind of okay because I have all new covers for the Cara Mia books. They are gorgeous.

3. Today I’ll tackle corrections/edits on How to Write a Letter.

4. After that, I’ll work on Bad Memory Album, which will be a special gift for people on my newsletter.

5. Then back to the new Kiki book, which I’m behind on writing.

What have I learned this week? I hate formatting, and I want to pay a formatter to do more. It’s just a huge pain in the butt.

Also, I’ve been dogsitting for my dear friend and neighbor, Lori. Chief is an older dog, so he has special needs. We had a huge thunderstorm that caused the poor boy to shiver with fright. I decided we (Chief, Jax, and I) should camp out in the laundry room until it passed. Fortunately, Chief is Jax’s best friend. Jax even “herds” Chief. If I say, “Go get Chief,” Jax runs to his pal and directs him toward me.

Jax and Chief

On a really sad note, my son and daughter-in-law have learned that their dog, Juice, has terminal bladder cancer. I really love that big sweet lunk. Every time I think about him dying, I get all weepy…that’s making me sad and grumpy.

 

Juice, the world’s sweetest pit bull.

This week I started going to Orange Theory Fitness. My husband, David, had a heart attack scare a year and a half ago. After that, he became Mr. Uber Fit. I finally bit the proverbial bullet and decided I am not going to get fit on my own. Hence, Orange Theory Fitness where I’m literally working my butt off. Oy!  I have to say that the staff is really, really nice. They aren’t like the usual gym bunnies I’ve known.

When I take breaks from editing or writing, I work on my new dollhouse project. Translation: I cut or paint myself. Yes, I’ve taken to sawing my fingers and slicing a craft knife blade into my thumb. I dripped blood all over the project. I now have blood on the applicator tip of the Super Glue container. What a mess! But as long as I can type, we’re good, right?


That’s it from here,

Love you,
j

The Revenge of AOL/Lessons I learned about my computer


By Joanna Campbell Slan

As with most crises, this one began simply enough. My AOL inbox showed 20,000+ messages. The number had built up over time. In a surge of energy, I decided to clean out the inbox. Four hours later, I’d winnowed the mess down to 3,000+ emails. Some of you might have even gotten an email from me, because if I had any questions about whether an email had been responded to, I sent a new email to double-check.

That night, I went to bed feeling incredibly organized. Yes, I was taming my email habit at last. My friend Marla had shown me how to use the rules function. Aaron, my computer guru, told me how to block offending domains. The number in my inbox had shrunken considerably. The leftovers could be dealt with the next morning. All was well in my soul.

Alas.

The next day, I opened my computer to find…40,000+ emails. I called Aaron. He did a remote session (oh, the computer gods have ways of controlling our machines from afar!), and reset the AOL account. He deduced that AOL wanted to save all my emails for 30 days. When I tried to destroy them, AOL thoughtfully replaced all of them. We thought we had the problem fixed, although Aaron’s last pronouncement proved prescient, “I hate AOL.”

“You told me that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll say it again. I hate AOL. You get what you pay for.”

“Right, but I still use that account. Mainly for sites that force me to sign up or for when I make purchases.”

“Yeah, but I’m just sayin’…I hate AOL.”

“Got it.”

Later that day, a warning popped up in the lower right hand corner of my screen. It told me that I was running out of disk space. I hit the Crap Cleaner button. I did the Malware cleaning. Usually that’s all I need to do. Of course, cleaning the disk space is a hassle because as you do, you clean out all the “cookies,” which are really bread crumbs that lead you back to places you’ve been. When the cookies are gone, you have to manually re-enter passwords. A pain in the backside. However, I was being a good little scout. I did it. And I kept writing on my newest Kiki book and a short story.

The next day…Armageddon. AOL decided I could NOT do without the emails I’d deleted and repopulated them AGAIN. I now had 220,000+ emails in my inbox. I also had 50,000+ emails in my trash folder. I couldn’t send or receive any emails. A big yellow caution sign covered my enterprise server, the joannaslan.com site.

So I decided to take out the trash (in the computer). I needed to hurry because I was catching a plane up to DC. From there I was flying to Seattle, Washington, for a family wedding. I hit the right buttons. Hit them again. Nothing happened.

In a panic I called Aaron.

As it happened, between the emails in my inbox and the emails in my trash, I’d used up ALL the available space on my computer. In fact, between the manuscripts on my laptop, the photos, the covers, and everything else, I’d used up 60% of my disk space. My emails ate the rest, the remaining 30%.

Fortunately, there was a fix. I could physically drop off my computer with Aaron, and he could install a bigger hard drive. A much, much bigger hard drive. So I did.

Now my computer is slicker than owl snot. (As if I’d know how slick owl snot is!) And faster than a speeding bullet. (Ditto.) Aaron kindly worked overtime to get the machine back to me. Between his efforts and the wedding and traveling, I took a semi-forced vacation from my laptop. Yesterday I actually floated around in my son’s pool for an hour. It was heaven, watching the clouds float overhead in a blue, blue sky. Here in Winter Park, Florida, the temperature soared into the 90s, and the water was perfect! I actually fell asleep while drifting in the plastic doughnut.

And you know what? Despite the hassle, and the cost, and the exasperation…I’m kinda/sorta glad this happened. I now have more storage space. I feel refreshed. I really needed to take a break from technology. My mind feels much clearer, and I’m ready to get back to work.

What did I learn from all this?

  • I’m recommitted to cleaning my email inbox more frequently–and immediately dumping the “trash.”
  • I’m going to be more pro-active about using external back-up drives. I’ll keep one up in DC at our business and one in Florida.
  • I’ll be putting more of my finished manuscripts in the cloud from now on as a way to keep things organized and to better manage storage.
  • I’ll always get the largest hard drive I can afford. When we bought this new laptop, it never occurred to us to see if we could get a bigger hard drive. This one is four times the size I had.
  • I’m so glad I keep a little notebook with all my passwords written down. Another computer guru, not Aaron, told me that he spends a lot of his time working with people who put all their passwords on their computer only to have a computer problem and lose all access.
  • I need to take a break from my computer once in a while. It’s positively addicting. I need to clear my thinking and detach.
  • I really appreciate Aaron. He’s a girl’s best friend when it comes to my computer. Everyone needs a computer whiz as a pal.

Oh… and Aaron still hates AOL.

Why I’ve Changed My Thoughts about Recycling Glass


A friend who is in the waste management business gave me some tips about recycling. I was astonished to hear that glass is of very little value and might not even get recycled at all, even if you put it in the bin. That got me thinking about new ways I can use glass bottles. Maybe you’ll want to do the same?

Here’s a list of cool ideas: IDEAS

I’m constantly finding glass bottles on the beach. Here’s an example of how I reused a bottle I found.

 

Upcycled Glass Bottle

All it took was a bit of twine, a flat rock, a seashell and my trusty glue gun.

I’d like to encourage more of you to find interesting ways to reuse glass bottles. Toward that end, I’m giving away a bottle cutter.

Enter to win here http://gvwy.io/neeu0s3

Here’s the link to enter to win it: CUTTER   The contest ends May 31, 2018.

 

Kiki Lowenstein and the Cheery, Cherry Blossoms — Comment to win your own cheery, cherry blossoms


Note from Joanna: On Friday, March 23, at midnight, I’ll choose one lucky commenter from this blog to win a cherry blossom set (mouse pad, drawer scent, pencil and postcard).

Anya sat slumped to the right as her fingers pranced over the keyboard. Her headphones looked weird, tilted as they were. I didn’t want to disturb her or scare her, so I called her name. She didn’t respond. I tried again, and then my eyes flickered to the screen. She was playing Forge of the Ages, and her character was negotiating for a necklace.

I glanced at my cell phone. The bus would be leaving in an hour and a half. Her suitcase was sitting empty on her bed. She needed to finish her packing.

“Anya?” I prompted her again, but this time I went to tap her shoulder. That’s when I noticed the lumps running down the side of her throat. At first, I thought I was dreaming. The knots that covered her typically smooth neck were as big as large jawbreakers. How could that be real?

“Honey? Anya? Let me see you, sweetie.” This time I did touch her shoulder, gently, interrupting her concentration. She startled. Her hands flew up.

“Mom! You scared me.” She yanked down the headphones in a motion suitable for pulling off earmuffs.

“Come here.” I took her by the shoulder and guided her to the window. Maybe those lumps had been a trick of the light. No, there they were. Knots positioned the length of her throat from under her jaw to her collarbone. If her blouse hadn’t been buttoned, I would have probably seen more on their way to her chest. I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead. She whined, “Mooo-ooom.”

I turned her so that she was facing away from me. Kissing the skin on the back of her neck, I realized she was burning up. “Stay right there. I’m getting the thermometer.”

Detweiler sat across from six-year-old Erik at the dining room table. Between them sat a series of dominoes and the empty tin case with the logo “Mexican Train.” My husband looked up. “I’ll be ready to take Anya to school in twenty minutes.”

One foot on the lowest step and my hand on the rail, I hesitated. “That might not be happening. She’s running a fever. There are lumps on her neck.”

“Sounds like mono.” He shook his head sadly. “Mononucleosis is extremely transmittable. Even if she gets on antibiotics today, she wouldn’t be clear in time for the school trip to DC.”

“I know it. Let me take her temperature and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

#

“Totally unfair and crappy.” Anya rested her forehead against the door window while she sat in the passenger’s side of the car. “This was supposed to be the best cherry blossom display in years. We had reservations to take tea at the Willard. I can’t believe it! Are you sure we can’t tell the teacher that I’ve been on meds for two days? I feel fine, Mom. Really I do.”

Reaching over with my free hand, I rubbed her shoulder gently. “Wouldn’t that be nice? We could just lie to Mr. Harmann, eh? No one would need to know about your fever. When all your classmates get sick, you could just pretend that’s surprise. You could go on and visit DC. Oh, maybe you could avoid little old ladies and old men and babies and anyone with a compromised immune system. If you wore a mask, carrying Lysol, wore white gloves, and went to bed earlier than everyone else, who would notice? It wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? I mean, if someone climbed into your bus seat after you, well, gosh that’s the problem with public transportation, isn’t it?”

With an angry harrumph of her shoulders, Anya refused to face me. I could guess what she was thinking, and it wasn’t very pleasant. I turned up the radio.

Five minutes later, she pointed at a pair of golden arches. “Could we at least stop at McDonald’s? One of those shamrock milk shakes would taste great.”

“Of course we can.” I dreaded walking into the house and admitting to everyone that Anya was staying home. She had saved and saved her money for a seat on the bus going to DC. Taking photos of the monuments and the cherry blossoms was a high priority on her bucket list. Not that it mattered. All her plans would have to wait. Fortunately, we had a bottle of aspirin, antibiotics, and a coloring book that we’d picked up at CVS to keep her occupied. Unfortunately, those items were no substitute for a trip to our nation’s capital.

Anya was pretty good that evening. She hadn’t been looking forward to the long ride, because the school had decided to let two drivers alternate shifts and keep driving all night long. I could imagine how tired the sophomores would be as they drove through Virginia. But the long ride would practically guarantee the civics students that they would arrive as the sun rose on the proud marble markers. The photos should be glorious, which was why the civics and arts class decided to take the trip together. They’d been watching weather reports nonstop since the last week of January.

For Anya, the trip would be a non-starter. She slept all night and didn’t wake up until 10 the next morning. When she remembered that she would have been spending this morning in DC, she groaned and pulled her pillow over her face.

“Tell us about DC and flowers,” I suggested as a way to help her focus on things that were cool. “Come on, sweetie. I want to know.” I plucked the pillow off her face.

She rolled her eyes “Today is the peak day, which means that 70% of them will be in bloom. It varies every year, according to the weather. The majority of the trees line the Tidal Basin, near the monuments to FDR, Martin Luther King, and the Jefferson Monument. It’s illegal to pick a blossom.”

“How did they get there?”

“Teddy Roosevelt decided the nation’s capital needed sprucing up, but nothing was done until Helen Taft, President Taft’s wife, saw the monochromatic nature of the city as an opportunity to get involved in diplomacy. We’d had an ongoing trade and immigration imbalance with Japan, but a few wealthy Japanese businessmen actively sought a way to thank our country. Cherry blossoms are highly prized in Japan, but the first shipment of trees was teeming with bugs and had to be destroyed.”

I shook my head. “Wow. Talk about a rocky start.”

“The mayor of Tokyo was very embarrassed. The next shipment was bug-free. Because the trees only live to be about 30 years old, the ones blooming today are offspring. The blossoms are white and pink. Thanks to the efforts of the National Park Service, today there are 3,750-some trees that flower each spring, but I won’t be able to see them!” With that, she dissolved into tears.

#

“Why is Anya so sad?” Erik asked. “Because she feels bad?”

I explained about the cherry blossoms. “They’re only in bloom a few days. She’ll miss them.”

Erik pulled out his iPad and scrolled through several pages. “Look, Mama-Kiki. We can make cherry blossoms. See? Here are the directions, CHERRY BLOSSOMS. s

I glanced at them. “One problem, buddy. We don’t have tissue paper.”

“You always say, ‘Be creative.’ We have to be creative, right?” His chocolate brown eyes challenged me to live up to my own motto.

“That’s right. Tell you what. I think we have coffee filters in the pantry. Let’s go see.”

I was right. We found a package of the white circles. I sent Erik to get his watercolors. We spent a happy hour or so, coloring flowers and leaves. Because we didn’t have filaments to use for stamens, we dipped yellow embroidery floss into Elmer’s glue and frayed one end. The colorful mix dried on a dish rack set upside down. An hour later, we cut out the blossoms and assembled the branches. We also found an app that would put cherry blossoms on Anya’s DESKTOP.  Then I discovered a 99 cent app that would create STICKERS.

While Erik finished arranging the branches, I made Anya a cherry milkshake. I put a handful of frozen cherries in the blender, added chocolate syrup, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and 8 ounces of milk. After blending it, I served it in a tall glass with a squirt of whipped cream on top.

Anya sat in her bed, sipping her milkshake and admiring the spray of cherry blossoms that Erik made for her. “Do you know what the cherry blossoms mean?” she asked her little brother.

“They mean spring is coming.”

“Yes, but they’re also a reminder to enjoy every day.” She put a dab of whipped cream on the tip of his nose. “Especially those days when I get to be with my brother.”

#

Have you ever seen the cherry blossoms? What does spring mean to you?

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