Christmas blues

Well, it's over. The mad dash to buy, prepare, wrap, bake, clean, and anticipate has come to an end for most of us. The question is: Now what?

Like many people, I always feel a bit 'let down' once Christmas Day has come and gone and the mounds of torn wrapping paper, gift packages and candy wrappers have been cleaned up. It's not that I didn't have a good holiday -- it was fantastic! Each family member was happy with their gifts. We had few arguments and no mishaps that required emergency room trips. ;) We had a pleasant visit with relatives and most of the cats got along peacefully -- that, in itself, a major accomplishment.

But it's over. We dedicated almost 100% of our time and resources to preparing for this one, singular day. Once that day has passed into history, we're often left feeling a bit, as my son would say: 'meh'.

This year, I came to a realization that has helped alleviate a bit of the blues. The journey is what's important, not the destination -- a lesson on the whole of life, as well as the smaller journeys within. The entire trip from late fall to Christmas morning brought with it joy, frustration, good will, irritation, and peace. An odd combination, to be sure.

So I've accepted early on that I would feel a bit 'meh' on this, the 27th of December. But it's a good 'meh'. ;) It's not exactly depression, it's just a bit of sadness that another special milestone in life has come and gone. There will be many more. And the journey to those will be just as chaotic, emotional, sometimes dull, and possibly exciting and exhausting.

I accept the 'meh'; I accept that while we keep up with certain traditions, as our family grows the holiday must grow and be flexible, as well. Best change of all: the children now let me sleep past the break of dawn on Christmas morning.

While I don't necessarily make New Year's resolutions, I do have a special wish for each and every one of us. I hope we each remember to enjoy the journey, every step, every day of the way.

Happy New Year!

Meg Allison

Indulge your senses...
http://megallisonauthor.com

Holiday Madness

This is the first year in many that I'm not working in retail, so I'm actually looking forward to the holidays. It was bad enough when I sold jewelry, and we fought for the chance to work on Christmas Eve, hoping to be the one helping those men who bought last minute and often impulsively. Worse yet when I worked part time at a craft store, because although by Christmas Eve the store was quiet, by then we had already moved on to the spring stock and it felt as though I'd had enough of Christmas already... in fact I'd felt that way since some time in October!

So I plan to "do" Christmas this year, rather than just throw the tree up a couple of days before-hand and pretend it was enough. And where does that leave my writing? I'm not 100% sure. I'm not used to being able to produce at this time of the year, so it'll be a novel experience (pun intended, hopefully) to actually have a bit more time to devote to it. With the kids grown and all having their own things to do, and most of our families far away, I think it'll be fairly quiet around here. Not ideal perhaps, since this is the time for families, but until I have a grandchild or two (looks innocent) I think this is how things will go.

Now just to entice my old witch of a muse to get her butt off whatever beach she's hanging out on and come home for the holidays! I have the next book in the Unveiled Seductions series to write. In the mean time, here's a sneak peek of my next release.

Coming soon from Ellora's Cave: Jaguar in the Sun Available December 4, 2013

Jaguar in the Sun

Anya Richards

Book four in the Unveiled Seductions series.

Cassandra Solinar has a bucket list and jaguar god Xbal Montegro is on it. About to undergo an essential rite she won’t survive, she wants to wring every ounce of pleasure out of the time left. Including discovering if Xbal’s sex magic technique is as good as rumored.

It’s no hardship for Xbal to accept Cassandra’s invitation for one erotic encounter, but far more difficult to let her go once he gets a taste of the explosive passion between them. Now he’s determined to hold on to her, no matter what.

Cassie can’t tell Xbal the truth about what she’s about to do. It’s illegal, but without her death the entire world will perish. It’s a job she’s been preparing for from birth, but the loss will be greater now. For in Xbal she finds a soul-deep connection she doesn’t want to lose, and the one thing she made a point of not putting on her bucket list—love.

A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Bumps in the night

Have you seen a shadow move?  Have you heard an odd noise -- maybe a voice from nowhere?  Have you ever felt as if you were being watched? Followed?

Those somewhat creepy, eerie sensations seem affect a lot of people. Is it merely an overactive imagination? A trick of the light or dark? Maybe. But I think many of us suspect that there is more to life than meets the eye.

Ghost stories have existed all over the world for many centuries. As human beings, we seem to enjoy being scared. That little bit of adrenaline rush, followed by relief and maybe laughter. It feels good. Otherwise, why would things such as horror stories/movies and roller-coasters be such an integral part of our culture?

My youngest daughter and I love watching Ghost Hunters together. Now before you scoff, they do manage to catch quite a few interesting bits of evidence with their high-tech gadgets. Early in 2011, the TAPS team visited a nearby famous haunt when they investigated the Homestead Carnegie Library here in Pennsylvania. Their time was well-spent. My daughter immediately wanted to go there and experience the haunting for herself. :)

More locally, there are stories of a nearby diner being haunted by the spirit of an older woman. Not that frightening, really, unless you're easily spooked.  ;)  I'm also fairly certain a small cemetary we pass frequently has its own lingering energy. No, I don't tend to think tombstones are haunted. Ghosts would probably have more interesting places to hover.

I've grown up with ghost stories from within my own family -- it seems we have a genetic 'gift' when it comes to experiences with the afterlife. Personally, I've been on the fringes: watched, but not spoken to; jumping at shadows and shapes that move in and out of my peripheral vision; having things moved -- hidden it seems -- and then put back in place. Which is kind of how I like it. :)  I prefer that little adrenaline rush to full-blown screaming terror. How about you?

~~Meg Allison
Indulge your senses...
http://www.megallisonauthor.com

Ghost Story Time!

Anyone up for a couple of true, spooky tales? Okay, grab your wooby (or whatever security device you use) and hang on.

Last week I took my son Dylan and his girlfriend, Katie, down to North Carolina with me to visit my Mom. Now, Mom says she doesn't believe in ghosts, but the family history is littered with strange phenomena - and my sister and I always swore she was psychic. Plus, when we were growing up, Mom used her ability to move as silently as a ghost through the house to her best advantage. You NEVER knew when she was going to appear behind you just as you had your proverbial hand in the cookie jar.

So anyway, last week on a Thursday night, Mom and I attended a Piedmont Wind Symphony concert, in which my sister plays bass clarinet. It was a benefit concert for Home Moravian Church in historic Old Salem. (In fact, the photo on the web site's home page was taken that night in the church. My sister is on the far right in the second row.) But I digress, as usual.

While we were enjoying the concert, my son texted me with weather updates. A powerful storm cell was heading straight for us, and tornado sirens were going off all over the region. Mom and I were sitting in the balcony, so I kept one eye on the stained glass windows, figuring if the hanging light fixtures started to sway in the 400-year-old building, we'd head for lower ground.

I texted Dylan to get to the basement with Katie, and to please unplug my laptop on the way. When we got home, all was well, but Dylan was stuttering with excitement and poor Katie was white as a sheet, teeth chattering. And not because of the storm. They're Ohio kids - tornado warnings are routine for them. They were already in the basement before I told them to go there.

Slowly, between the two of them, the story came out. When they first went down to the basement - which is Mom's ginormous sewing area - both Dylan and Katie had the distinct feeling they weren't alone. Almost simultaneously, Katie said "I feel like someone else is in here" and Dylan said "I feel like Grandpa just walked into the room." (My father died about a year ago, and hadn't been able to leave the ground floor for several years prior.)

They shrugged it off, turned on the TV and watched the weather channel. Keep in mind my mother's dress form sits just off to the right of the TV, within eyeline. It's always facing toward the center of the room.

When Dylan come downstairs from unplugging computers, he noticed something odd. The dress form was turned a quarter turn toward the wall. He made a comment but Katie hadn't noticed it before. A bit later, he went back upstairs for some ice cream. When he came back down, Katie was curled up on the couch, shaking.

She had seen the dress form slowly spinning around by itself. It now had its back to the room. Of course, Katie was scared to death, but Dylan laughed and said "It's just Grandpa messing with you. He wouldn't tease you if he didn't like you."

Indeed, when my sister and I were growing up and had sleepovers with friends, Dad delighted in finding ways to scare the bejeebers out of us!

Later on that night, in the wee hours, I was sitting alone in the family room playing Vampire Wars on Facebook (a game that kept me sane while Dad was in hospice). Dad was always a night owl, and when we visited I always sat up late with him while he worked on his computer or recorded old movies from a classic movie channel. We didn't always talk, just kept each other company.

The house has a security system with motion detectors all over the place. Even when it's disarmed, you can hear a faint "beep" when you walk through a room and break one of the invisible beams.

So as I sat there in the silence, nothing in the room was moving. Yet I kept hearing that quiet little "beep" at odd intervals. It was coming from the detector right behind where Dad's favorite chair used to sit. After about the sixth or seventh beep, I glanced in that direction and said softly, "Hi Dad. I know you're here. Now go to bed."

The beeps stopped. Smiling to myself, I went back to killing virtual vampires. Comforted that our loved ones never really leave us.

--Carolan

www.carolanivey.com

(Image from Scarier Than Norman Bates' Mother by C. Taylor)

P.S. - Hey, don't forget, the annual Spring Showers extravaganza is coming up on Coffee Time Romance! Click here for details.

Parenthood - There is no cheap Matinee

If anyone told me three years ago I'd be walking a tightrope with one of my children, I never would have believed them. I have a daughter who is now mere months away from her 20th birthday. She is an intelligent (A/B student in high school), sweet girl with a heart of gold. Everyone jokingly called her "smiley" or "giggles" but I don't see that in her very often these days. The cause? A relationship with a guy that worries me. Why couldn't she have gone to college or find a job with benefits and stability (starting a career) instead of the local pizza joint?

As adults, we've made our mistakes and have experienced things we wished we had the ability to go back in time and change. I have many. But, how do you get your kids to listen? Immature, controlling and a future that holds very little are traits this boy posses, and it scares the hell out of me they will go from "engaged" to "married". I find myself holding my tongue to keep from alienating my daughter.

On the other hand, there is my thirteen year old boy. He's the typical boy hooked on Xbox and plays online with his friends more than I agree with, but we're working on that. I give him slack because he does very well in school. In fact, he gets calls daily from friends about homework, which he plays off by complaining about in a gruff manner. I call him a "closet nerd" because he is so bright. Unfortunately, he lands himself on lunch detention daily because of his mouth. He claims freedom of speech, but I'm trying to get him to understand there is a time and place for his opinion. The classroom is not it. Of course my words go in one ear and out the other. He's portraying a typical teenage boy showing his plume of feathers.

My son has five more years of school ahead of him, and it worries me what the future will hold. Will he continue to keep the part of him, though small, that is considerate and helpful (at least when asked) or will he migrate fully to the dark side?

Ah, the perils of parenthood. Keeps life interesting, but I'd like not have so much entertainment.

Family: The Good, the Bad, and the Chosen

Families can be wonderful. Members of your family can come to your rescue in a crisis, or hold your hand when there’s a loss. Maybe you count on your sister to cheer you up when you’re down, or your brother to help you move. Again. Or your cousin to help when your sink explodes water all over your bathroom. Maybe your family is wonderful, close, warm, there for you whenever you want or need them — or even if you don’t.

Mine isn’t.

Don’t get me wrong I love my biological family, but there are only a few I can count on and truly enjoy spending time with. On the other hand, I recently realized I’d been calling a male friend “my brother” and a close female friend I was calling “my sister” and it hit me: I was creating my own family.

The benefit of a chosen family is that, well, they’re chosen. You pick people with whom you feel comfortable, people who understand your quirks, your days of madness, your obsession with creatures of myth and legend. Chosen family members have things in common with you beyond DNA (or adoption papers). These people can be whoever you want in your life. And the terms of relationship is between you and the chosen one.

Let me make clear that having a chosen family doesn’t lessen the position of your “real” one. One of my daughters and I are very close, and my grandchildren are the sunshine that peeks through the dark curtains of a busy life and the depression that sometimes comes with it.

Besides, even if you like and get along with your family, you still might like an extra cousin — in case of bathroom flooding.

Have a great weekend!


Cheryel
www.cheryelhutton.com

Here's to the Season

I’ve often been heard to say that I’d like to go into hibernation right after Halloween and wake up after the new year begins. But hey, if I’m going to do that, then maybe I could just sleep until the wind isn’t sending ice cubes down my back and I don’t have to worry about the pipes freezing. I love Fall. In fact, it’s my favorite time of year. Winter, on the other hand, let’s just say I’m not a big fan.

By far, the worst time of winter for me has always been holiday shopping. I hate it. Trying to fight through packed parking lots to get into packed stores to buy the perfect gift — you know, the one you can never find. And don’t get me started on the attitudes of the shoppers! Season of peace and goodwill my left foot (that just got stepped on, by the way).

I can actually trace my serious dislike of holiday shopping back to when I was about five or six and I was shopping with my mom. A small child wasn’t even noticed by the herds of shoppers. At one point I was knocked to the floor by a shopping cart, and the person behind it never even noticed what she’d done. Childhood trauma via shopping cart. Hmm, maybe I should start a support group.

But enough of the complaining. I actually want to say how much better shopping has been this year. I’d think it was my new meds, but other people have commented on the lack of cranky too. Maybe more people are shopping online, or maybe it’s the phase of the moon, or the alignment of the stars. Whatever the cause, I’m grateful. This year, I’m actually enjoying the season. Even if is cold.

Something else I’m enjoying is my family. My husband, my kids, my son-in-law, my grandkids, my mom and stepdad, my friend who’s closer than a sister. My two dachshunds. All the wonderful people, and dogs, in my world. It seemed much more fun this year to buy gifts for them. I enjoyed it more. Of course it didn’t hurt that I got a big hunk of things on the first shopping trip. Two stores, four gifts. Great way to start. Plus I found the perfect planner for myself. Hey, gotta stay organized.

However much you shop, for whatever holiday, here’s wishing you a wonderful, pleasant shopping season.

Oh, and happy whatever!

Cheryel
www.cheryelhutton.com

13 Rejected Holiday Outfits

What comes to mind when I say holiday traditions? Eggnog, carols, exchanging gifts, watching for snow? Families have as many winter holiday traditions as there are snowflakes, and most of them are anticipated year-round. Most of them are remembered with great pleasure for years.

Some of them--not so much.

In my life, a new and rather horrifying holiday tradition has taken shape: finding an appropriate grown up party outfit. Not the party I have with my writer friends--they love me no matter what I wear, which is a good thing, because I show up in some weird duds. No, this would be the hubby's office party, where I have to dress to impress my husband's coworkers and boss, and I can't spend a lot of money doing it. (The party budget gets invested in my hair.) Since I've been in and out of maternity clothes and up and down the numerical scale these past ten years, I haven't had any go-to outfits I could rely on. No classic little black dress. No magic pants and sweater. One year I even skipped the holiday party because the thought of shopping just made me too cross.

But this year, I'm happy to say this torturous new holiday tradition morphed into something less miserable when I found I was no longer alone. My younger sister, whose involvement in the field of environmental education didn't exactly require designer duds, has several parties on her schedule that require fancy dress, or at least dress that's fancier than jeans and hippy shirts. They're her fiance's parties, and so she's in the same uncomfortable shopping boat I've been in alone for ten years.

We just finished a marathon session in my extensive vintage collection, trying to find attractive yet unique outfits for her various party needs. Since my sister never reads this blog, I thought I might share some of the rejected items she will not be wearing to be glamorous at her holiday parties in 2009:

1) The dress that someone probably wore to a funeral in 1965. (I have no proof of this. It's just a feeling.)

2) The pink shiny mini with the ripped out armpit. (I told her I could fix it before her party, but the fact it barely covered her underpants was a bit of a deterrant.)

3) The black go go boots that were a size too small. (I thought you were supposed to be miserable when you look that good?)

4) The polka dotted 1950's taffeta party dress that was made of awesome. Too big of awesome. (My sewing skills do not extend far enough to remedy bigness, though they could probably ruin awesomeness.)

5) The crispy cotton dress that wouldn't have looked out of place on a cub scout den mother. (A wise choice, as her fiance sort of resembles a cub scout.)

6) The grey wool cape circa 1973. (Even though I told her it would probably be COLD and she only has a rugged barn coat for winterwear.)

7) The black tank top that did not match the black shrug at all. (That was just her excuse. It looked great, but she worried about being cold, and it really didn't match the shrug. It *did* match the cape, a fact she didn't appreciate me bringing back up. She wouldn't be caught dead in that cape. But do you think she might wear it to a funeral? Because that dress in #1 fit her pretty good.)

8) The muppet shirt. (Don't ask. And shut up--I *like* it.)

9) Anything with a turtleneck. (She has a bit of an obsession with freedom of the neck area.)

10) The black and red kimono missing all its snaps. (What, the matching gold safety pins weren't good enough for her?)

11) Striped knee socks. (Actually, she already had these on, and I made her take them off. They really soured her opinion of some of the garments. Honestly, I think if she'd taken them off before she tried on the cape, it would have been a winner.)

12) A jaunty neckerchief. (See: turtleneck. Also see: Dude, I'm not Rizzo, I'm not wearing a neckerchief.)

13) The green and gold lounge dress from the 70's I can't even believe I got her to try on just by pointing out it was mostly a Christmasy color (green) and would match the gold shoes she didn't hate. (But she took it off before I got back with the camera.)

***

What are your lesser known and least favorite holiday traditions? To suffer through them, I recommend proper companionship--like sisters willing to try on green and gold dresses from the 1970's and dance a jig. At least until the camera shows up.

As for me, I'm wearing black pants and a red blouse. I suspect the muppet shirt will be taken.

Jody W.
So much cyberspace, so little time!
www.jodywallace.com / www.meankitty.com