The Salt Mine

 Way back in 1973, I signed up for the Summer Study in Italy course, which was offered through Trenton State College—now The College of New Jersey. (I really hate it when colleges change their names.) A colleague of mine suggested the tour because she went on it and loved every moment of it. I signed up, saved my money, and when June came I flew off to France with the tour group. The course included six weeks in Italy, but there was initially a week in Paris and at the end of the tour, a week in Munich. 

The photo above was taken on that last week in Germany when we went down into a salt mine. Everyone donned special protective clothing and boarded a small train. The salt mine was large and to me, it smelled salty. 😆 It was a fun way to end our time together. After eight weeks, we all knew each other quite well. 

I took two courses on that trip, an art history course and a watercolor course. The credits transferred toward the graduate degree I was pursuing at Jersey City State College—now the New Jersey City University. (Why did they have to change the name?) 

It was the first time I was away from home for such a long amount of time and I was homesick for a while—until my cousin wandered into town. He was touring Europe that summer, too, and his mother instructed him to visit me. He showed me the letter she wrote to him as proof.😂

I brought my guitar with me, but also discovered the residenza where we stayed in Florence had a piano in the basement. I bought a crochet hook when we landed in Paris. LOL! Some things about me never change. Obviously, I had homework but I enjoy being busy all the time. I wasn’t writing any books at the time though I wrote many, many letters home. The internet hadn’t been invented and phone calls were practically impossible. I still have all the letters. Those are a real treasure to me. 

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I Did It!!!

I did it again! I wrote 30,000 words in the month of February on my current Work-In-Progress for the JeRoWriMo challenge. I still don’t have a name for the book but it is set in 1918 in New Jersey, which is one of my favorite places. 😊

The JeRoWritMo Challenge is a wonderful way to focus on writing. There are cheerleaders who acknowledge each writer’s success in typing out the words every day. It’s a wonderful way to push through and get the words down. 

I am very grateful to the New Jersey Romance Writers for hosting this challenge. 

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LOVE’S GIFT IS A FINALIST!

LOVE’S GIFT is a finalist in the NJ Romance Writers’ Golden Leaf Awards! I am thrilled. 🤩 

https://www.amazon.com/Loves-Gift-Penelope-Marzec-ebook/dp/B0D49BZ5P4 

 

Do You Like Snow?

We are supposed to have a significant snowstorm. We have stocked up on food. We have battery lanterns and wood for the fireplace in case we lose power. I am not looking forward to digging out.

When I was young, I used to love snow. School would close and I could go sledding and make snowmen. I loved ice skating. I'd shovel the snow off the ice and have my personal skating rink. I tried skiing in my twenties, but it was an expensive hobby because more often than not, there wasn't enough snow in this part of NJ.

I don't ever remember being cold.

Then I grew up. Snowstorms create problems. Now I worry. I worry about my nearest and dearest driving in the snow. I worry about heavy ice on tree limbs. I worry about slipping on the ice. 

Nevertheless, falling snow is still pretty to see. I like the quiet that settles on the neighborhood as sound is muffled by the soft coating. I still find it magical to wake up and see a world of glittering diamond dust on all the trees and bushes. 

I always study the snowflakes on the sleeve of my coat and on my mittens to see if each one is really unique. I take photographs of the snow even though I have to put on extra layers of clothing so I don't feel the cold as much. 

Waiting for the snow to stop is also a great time to read books. 

But then the storm ends. The peace of the neighborhood ends, too, as snowblowers, plows, and shovels struggle to move the white stuff out of the way. 

Stay safe everyone. 

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Reflecting

      I took this photo in one of our local parks on a cloudy but mild day. Without any wind, the lake became a mirror, reflecting everything perfectly. I was sitting on a bench opposite the one in the photo and doing some mental reflecting. My oldest daughter gave me a very lovely notebook for Christmas. When I'm writing a book, I usually type out the story. I can type much faster than I can write by hand. However, I decided to use the notebook for reflections of the past. Life was very different in the 1950s when I was a child growing up in a small neighborhood. Maybe someday my granddaughter would be interested in reading about my experiences. Of course, I'll be writing in cursive so I hope she learns how to decipher my flowing script. 😄

     But I'll still be typing out another book, too. I've entered the JeRoWriMo challenge again in hopes of writing out 30,000 words in the month of February. Wish me luck. 

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