The Path

Choosing the right path is a difficult decision. I grew up in a time when women had fewer choices. The women of my generation often became either stay-at-home moms, nurses, secretaries, or teachers. I wanted to be a writer from a young age, but I did not want to be an English teacher. Picking apart poems and classic literature in high school cured me of that idea. I liked to read books. I didn't want to dissect them. However, I enjoyed teaching young children to read. I set off on my journey. For me, it worked.

Then I married and give birth to three lovely daughters. I decided to become a stay-at-home mom, at least for a while. It meant the loss of one paycheck, but my husband and I managed. We bought used cars. We did not have cable television. Our daughters did not have game consoles or the latest fashions--but they did a lot of reading and they learned to play the piano. Hubby and I took them on trips to historical places: Williamsburg, Plimouth Plantation, Mystic Seaport, and such. We camped to save money.

I put my trust in the Lord. In my heart, I felt I was doing what was best for our daughters and I have never regretted my decision.

It was during that stay-at-home time that the overwhelming urge to write took over my mind. I had a plot and I needed to put it on paper and I did. I sent it to various publishers and it was rejected over twenty-five times. However, I wrote other books in the meantime and eventually I found small publishers willing to take a chance on my books. I also won a few book awards, which was a big plus.

Our daughters grew and I went back to work teaching young children, but I continued writing. The steady teaching paycheck was a true blessing as time went on. But then my elderly father needed care and I retired from teaching. I never regretted that decision either.

Through the years the journey of life has presented me with several different paths. I changed the route several times but with prayer I had hope I was headed in the right direction and I continue to rely on the Lord to lead me. His grace and mercy keep me on track.

Meandering on Route 71

The other day, hubby thought it would be nice to visit the antique store in Point Pleasant, one of his favorite haunts. It was a lovely spring day and though the pollen count was way up, we headed down the Parkway and were soon wandering around aisles full of bric-a-brac and memorabilia from days gone by.

We didn't buy anything, which is good, but the variety of stuff was amazing. I saw a veritable bucket of knitting needles. Has everyone given up knitting? Just seeing those lonely knitting needles saddened me.

After we left the store, we intended to go home but it was still rather early in the day. Since I was driving, I decided to take a detour and once we passed into Brielle I veered off onto Route 71. The old road passes through all the lovely main streets of all the little seaside towns.

We meandered north along all sixteen miles of Route 71, through Manasquan, Sea Girt, Wall Township, Spring Lake, Belmar, and onward past Vic's in Bradley Beach and the Beach Plum Ice Cream Parlor. Past the grand estates in Deal. Past Monmouth University's stately campus.

Along Route 71, each town passes by quickly. Many of the houses along the main streets are old and it was fun to think about what it must have been like along the shore in the old days with horse drawn carriages.

We had a wonderful time. It was far better than zipping home along the Parkway. Of course, that day we had time--time to appreciate spring--the blossoming trees (despite the pollen) and bushes. It was calming not to rush. It's easier to see details when you're going at a grand speed of twenty-miles miles an hour.

I like detours. I consider them small adventures--and since I've lived in New Jersey all my life, I've never been afraid of getting lost. (Hint: there will always be a Parkway sign or a Turnpike sign somewhere along the way.) As a writer, detours often lead me into new plots.

Where will my next story take place? Hmmm. Maybe somewhere along Route 71.

Guest Post by CHRISTINE LINDSAY!

Today I am honored to have Christine Lindsay on my blog. She has a fantastic historical, SOFI'S BRIDGE now on sale for a limited time. Don't miss out on this offer. (I just bought it!) 

Irish-born Christine Lindsay is the author of multi-award- winning Christian fiction and non-fiction. Readers describe her writing as gritty yet tender, realistic yet larger than life, with historical detail that collides into the heart of psychological and relationship drama. Christine’s books have garnered the ACFW Genesis Award, The Grace Award, Canada’s The Word Guild Award (Twice), the READERS’ CHOICE AWARD, and was a finalist twice for Readers’ Favorite and the Selah Award.

SOFI'S BRIDGE was RWA Readers Choice Award 2017 for Historical Romance. This terrific book is on a rare discount of only 99 cents May 10, 11, and 12. 

Grab your copy here:

https://www.bookbub.com/books/sofi-s-bridge-by-christine-lindsay

Watch the book trailer at:  https://youtu.be/Y_istdNP8_Q

Read Chapter One of Sofi’s Bridge HERE

Read the book blurb and short excerpt below and enjoy!

Seattle Debutant Sofi Andersson will do everything in her power to protect her sister who is suffering from shock over their father’s death. Charles, the family busy-body, threatens to lock Trina in a sanatorium—a whitewashed term for an insane asylum—so Sofi will rescue her little sister, even if it means running away to the Cascade Mountains with only the new gardener Neil Macpherson to protect them. But in a cabin high in the Cascades, Sofi begins to recognize that the handsome immigrant from Ireland harbors secrets of his own. Can she trust this man whose gentle manner brings such peace to her traumatized sister and such tumult to her own emotions? And can Neil, the gardener, continue to hide from Sofi that he is really Dr. Neil Galloway, a man wanted for murder by the British police? Only an act of faith and love will bridge the distance that separates lies from truth and safety.

Excerpt:  

“Sometimes I think it would be easier,” Sofi said, “if I didn’t feel the urge to use these natural abilities—I think God-given abilities—but to do the more expected tasks of a woman in my social position. Strangely, my father considered it more socially acceptable for my sister to enter yacht races than for me to consider a career.”

Sofi raised her gaze. “But what about you, Neil? With all this talk about life’s purposes and the toil of one’s brow, what are you doing with your life?” The sun nestled between two peaks as she tensed her weight against the sun-warmed granite. 

Her natural perfume intoxicated him—not the overpowering colognes of society, but the scent of soap, apples she been paring earlier—stirring the desire to touch her cheek, her hands, her arms. What if he closed the gap between them? How would the softness of her cheek feel against the roughness of his? What would her lips taste like? 

His breath quickened.

Sofi’s eyes widened. 

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her softly parting mouth. A muscle tapped at the base of her throat. 

Had one of them moved closer?

He pulled in a breath. When a man and a woman cared for each other, they should speak the truth. He wanted to tell her about the thrift clinic he’d partnered in for the poor back home. Tell her of the work he’d done in the hospital. If he shared his pride in those accomplishments, he knew her eyes would shine in understanding.

Aye, right, ye fool. Then tell her you left the clinic and your position in Belfast City Hospital, as well as all your patients, to run to Washington State to be a gardener.How could he possibly tell her about the night that stole his life from him, and all with one slash of a knife? He rubbed the pressure between his brows. “Time we were getting back to the cabin.”

“Right. Of course.” In a fluster, she smoothed her shirtwaist. Her eyes that moments ago were shining turned a dull slate. She set her profile to him. “Foolish for the two of us to stand here any longer.”

Find it at AMAZON!

Talent or Persistence?

One of my paintings received a blue ribbon in the Ruth Crown Show of the Art Society of Monmouth County. Many have admired my paintings and praised my talent, which is nice but talent is nothing without practice, patience, and persistence.

My ability to paint a picture isn’t magic. I didn’t pick up a paintbrush one day and instantly create a masterpiece. In fact, so far I haven’t created any masterpieces—only some nice decorations I like to look at on the wall.

I give credit to God who undoubtedly graced me with a love of figuring out puzzles—and not the standard jigsaw puzzle. Nope. My puzzles are more difficult than simply the kind that contain one thousand pieces. Yet, the challenge forever intrigues me and I enjoy it.

Another source of my skill comes from my upbringing. My earliest memories are those in which my mother valiantly picked up a pencil or a brush and focused intently on an idea she felt needed to be brought to the attention of others. She practiced her craft constantly. She had a sketch pad with her at all times. The easel remained standing. It was never put away. Sometimes she was happy with her finished product--and sometimes she wasn't. If she wasn't satisfied, she would repeat the process.

From her example, I learned not to be afraid of failure and not to quit.

In addition, I have also been fortunate to study in Grace Graupe-Pillard's painting workshop, which has kept me on track over the years.

I am glad my painting was appreciated by the judge of the contest. I'm happy with my blue ribbon, and with the cash prize as well. But I often sigh when my talent is praised. Talent isn't magic. To create art takes lot of time. It also takes a ton of persistence.

I found an interesting article on talent in which Scott Barry Kaufman says, “Unfortunately, many people have an overly simplistic understanding of talent. They view talent as innate, ready to spring forth given the right conditions. But this is not how talent operates...Talents aren't prepackaged at birth, but take time to develop.” You can read the entire article at:

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2013/jul/07/can-science-spot-talent-kaufman

I believe anyone can paint a lovely picture if they are willing to spend a lifetime at it.

Old Romance Authors Never Die...

I found an alphabetical list of phrases for people of assorted professions who never die. I am sure you've seen these on bumper stickers:

OLD TEACHERS never die, they just lose their class.

OLD MUSICIANS never die, they just decompose.

OLD BOWLERS never die, they just end up in the gutter.


Click on the http://www.heroandvillain.com/pdf/NeverDie.pdf to see the entire list. Some of these make me laugh. However, I did not see authors or writers on the list--although I did see journalists.

In searching, I found another list http://www.jimpoz.com/jokes/oldNeverDie.html which is delightful as well, but again there are no writers or authors.

So I propose a special category for romance authors.

Old Romance Authors never die, they just live happily ever after.

What do you think? Can you suggest a better one for old romance authors. We are a special breed. :^)

Audio or Print?

I’ve tried audio books very few times. Once on a long trip to Florida there was a non-fiction book both my husband and I agreed might be interesting to both of us. It did keep us entertained, but it wasn’t long enough for the entire trip. Subsequently, I borrowed a few audio books from the library and found listening to them gave me a better feel for the author’s style. Some authors tend to use more dialogue, while some are more inclined to go heavier on the narrative. Most of all, listening to a book rather than reading it, helped to get chores finished in a pleasant manner.

And yet I missed seeing the words. For me, sitting down and reading a book is a most delightful activity. It doesn’t matter if it’s an ebook or a paper book. I devour every single word with my eyes, lingering over clever phrases, and joyfully smiling when I see an old word word now rarely used.

Pelican Book Group who publishes my sweet and Christian romances under the Prism Book Group imprint, has published many books as audio books. I decided to try a trial subscription one night and listened to Clare Revell’s Carnations in January, an intriguing romance set in England. I got out my yarn winder, tied together my many scraps of yarn, and made several yarn cakes. I’m making another Magic Cake shawl with all those leftover pieces of yarn.

It took me a while to get used to the narrator’s voice with her British accent, but after a while I felt as if I was there—in England—as the author related the tale of the two protagonists. I had an enjoyable evening and accomplished far more than if I had simply sat down and read the book.

But I still missed seeing the words. I like to go back sometimes and reread the good parts. I like to savor the brilliant descriptions. Of course, I can listen to the audiobook again, but it's more difficult to find the parts I like best.

Now, Smashwords is offering authors an audiobook service. I'm thinking of signing up and having some of my older books in audio versions.

What do you think of audio books? Do you listen to them? Which would you be more inclined to buy--an audio book or a print book?

National Poetry Month, Daffodils, and Mrs. Welstead

April is National Poetry Month. I have many favorite poems and William Wordsworth’s classic about daffodils is perfect for this time of year. When I was in Mrs. Welstead’s fifth grade class, she had us memorize that poem. While I can no longer can recite all of  “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” I still remember parts of it and whenever I see daffodils in the spring I think of the poem and I think of Mrs. Welstead, too. She taught fifth grade in Cliffwood Elementary School. My brother had been in her class the year before me. She seemed tall and formidable to me and since I was a shy child I rarely said anything in her class. When she praised another pupil’s long, neat fingernails, I looked at my nails and cringed. I had bitten them down to the nub. I vowed not to bite them anymore.

Mrs. Welstead had us practice our cursive handwriting on a regular basis, which was a good thing because until I landed in her class my handwriting was horrible.  However, the best part of being in the classroom with Mrs. Welstead was the fact that she always took time to read to her pupils. In addition to William Wordsworth’s poem, she read many classic short stories. I enjoyed every minute of listening as she opened up new worlds of literature for me. While I had many other wonderful teachers, Mrs. Welstead will always retain a special place in my heart.

Do you have a favorite poem or a favorite teacher?

Maintain a Balance When Writing

In writing my stories, I am aware I must restrain my impulses to throw everything into the mix. Writing a book is a lot like cooking up a new recipe. It helps to know the specific amounts required for each addition. Otherwise, the plot may become unbelievable. Though fiction is not real, it must appear authentic to the reader. Maintaining a balance of ingredients creates a satisfying tale.

The best analogy I have to illustrate this point is one of my early forays into cooking with garlic.

Despite owning only one cookbook, my mother excelled in baking. She whipped up pies, cakes, cream puffs. and cookies with ease. Her mouth-watering treats were a delight. However, her standard fare for supper tended to be simple, comfort food: spaghetti with meat sauce, meatloaf, cottage ham with potatoes and cabbage, baked chicken, and, occasionally, stuffed cabbage.

When I was a child, she never used garlic. I grew up knowing nothing about garlic. After I was married and had purchased several cookbooks, I began to experiment in the kitchen and at one point I decided to try a recipe for chicken which involved adding one clove of garlic. (This incident occurred eons before the Internet was invented.)

I didn't know the difference between a clove of garlic and a bulb of garlic. I hadn't read the entire cookbook, which might have enlightened me. I thought the entire bulb was what was supposed to be added. So I chopped up all that garlic and added it to my chicken. It was an great deal of work to chop up all those little sections. After all that effort, I decided adding garlic to any dish was far too much work

The chicken dish I made was very, very garlicky. I couldn't eat much of it. It was very disappointing after all the effort I put into it. Afterward, I skipped all the recipes with garlic for a while.

Sometime later while reading another cookbook, I realized my blunder. I was embarrassed, but also relieved to know that I didn't have to go through an excessive amount of effort to put together a very tasty dish. It only took a little garlic, a clove or two, to add a wonderful flavor to a meal.

I think of this when I am plotting my stories and struggling to balance the all the parts of the story. It takes a little of this and a little of that, sifted in carefully, to pull readers in and keep them turning the pages.

Know the difference between a clove and a bulb. Make it tasty but not overwhelming. 😋

Save Your Reviews On Paper

I believed that everything on the internet remained there forever. I have discovered this is not true--at least for some things like the reviews I received for the first edition of SEA OF HOPE. Most of the reviews on that book have vanished. Only a few are left. However, since it was my first published book, I printed out many of the reviews and saved them. Unfortunately, I cannot put them on Amazon. I am reduced to begging for new reviews on the second edition. 

Still, I had a wonderful time reading through the old reviews I saved. I even discovered the book had won another award which I had completely forgotten about--The Clara Award.  Sadly, that award no longer exists, but I do have a wonderful document proclaiming my achievement. 

Some of the websites where reviews for my book first appeared are still there, but the reviews for Sea of Hope have long since disappeared from their archives. 

Here's a snippet of a review written by Robin Peek at Romance Reviews Today, "Ms. Marzec has created a poignant and inspirational story of faith and trust. Her characters are in-depth, emotional people who hide their true feelings, but through faith, learn to forgive and trust. SEA OF HOPE is a truly inspiring romantic tale for readers of all ages." 

Clara Durfee, also of Romance Reviews Today said, "SEA OF HOPE is a well-written journey into two peoples' hearts."

Cindy Penn wrote, "Author Penelope Marzec appropriately chooses a modern day fishing village for this gentle inspirational romance that allows these strong-willed characters to rediscover faith. Like the disciples in the Bible, these characters struggle with painful circumstances to build love for God."

I found the Blue Iris Journal online, but not the review written for Sea of Hope. Here's a little of what Elizabeth K. Burton thought of the book, "This is a solid inspirational romance where the romance and the inspiration are superbly well-balanced. Faith here is not ethereal moralizing, but a pragmatic element of the characters' daily living. Even those who under ordinary circumstances don't care for having a religious thread in their romance will find Sea of Hope first-class entertainment."

I spent a lovely evening reading through these and other accolades for the book. My advice to other writers is to save your reviews on paper and file them safely away. Some things on the internet do not stay there forever. 

Available at AMAZON, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, and iBooks. 

Forgive! It's Good For You.

If you want to get to heaven, you need to forgive just as you have been forgiven. That's Biblical truth. However, even the Mayo Clinic says it's good for you. (https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/adult-health/in-depth/forgiveness/art-20047692) Holding onto a grudge is likely to raise your blood pressure, make you depressed, and ruin your enjoyment of the good things in life.

I know a bit about forgiveness. I've been married for forty-one years. I have forgiven hubby many times for various infractions of perfection and hubby has forgiven me, too. I've forgiven parents, children, and plenty of other people for things they did or said. Fortunately, for the most part, they've forgiven me as well, because sometimes I've said or done some really stupid stuff.

For instance, when we first moved into our present home, there was a really ugly, shag rug in the family room. It had a geometric pattern of orange, brown, and off-white. I didn't like the colors. I didn't like the pattern. Most of all, I hated the shaggy surface. It was difficult to keep clean with three young children running around.

However, hubby thought it was fine. In addition, he was worried about finances and didn't want to spend any money on a new rug. I figured there was tile underneath the rug. There had to be. The kitchen had an off-white tile and the family room was right off the kitchen. I could live with tile. It's easy to clean. Still, hubby did not want to rip up the old rug.

Around that time, hubby's parents came to visit with us and get to know their grandchildren. They didn't know about our rug argument. That same week, hubby had to go on a business trip. While he was gone, I asked his parents to help me rip up the rug, which they did. Underneath the rug was an ugly black and white asphalt tile floor, not the simple off-white I expected. It was hideous, but I shrugged and figured I could at least keep it clean.

The garbage collectors carted the old rug away. Hubby's parents left to return home.

Hubby came back from his business trip. He was really, really angry when he realized the rug wasn't there anymore. He didn't talk to me for about a week. One of our good friends laughed and said he probably wouldn't have talked to me for a month if I had ordered a new rug.

But eventually, hubby let it go. While I was not fond of black and white tile, I didn't ask for a replacement. A long time afterward, we bought beige ceramic tile. Hubby and I replaced the black and white tile on our own. It was a lot of work, but that floor is still there and blessedly easy to clean.

Should I have ripped up the rug? Should hubby have been a little more willing to compromise? Probably, but we are both stubborn. Nevertheless, we managed to get over it. And that's the way it has to be. Forgiveness is healthy, it keeps marriages together, and it's what the Lord expects from all of us because He forgave us first.

Great Blue Heron or great blue heron?

Last week, Daughter #2 and I went for a walk along a bridge over a marsh. Daughter #2 spotted a Great Blue Heron. It was a cold, blustery day but that didn't seem to bother the heron. I was lucky enough to get this photo before he flew away to the safety of a tall tree. 

Later, in looking up the habits, diet, and other particulars about bird, I noticed that most references did not use capital letters for the name of the species though some did. Hmmm. 

The Great Blue Heron is a magnificent bird. Shouldn't his name be capitalized? I found a blog post, http://penelopedia.blogspot.com/2010/12/bird-names-to-capitalize-or-not.html, which went into great detail concerning this topic. The truth is some folks do not capitalize bird names, but the International Ornithologist's Union is of the firm opinion that bird names should be capitalized. 

So I'm with the International Ornithologist's Union. Give this amazing bird capital letters for his name. 

Special Introductory Price!

The newly revised, second edition of SEA OF HOPE is now only $1.99 until the end of March! It is available online at most ebook distributors. SEA OF HOPE won EPIC’s eBook Award for Best Inspirational Novel in 2002. Originally published by Awe-Struck Publishing, I have now reissued it with an awesome new cover designed by Taria Reed.

You can read what’s inside by going to the Amazon page for the book and clicking on the book cover. Try it here: http://a.co/7zgTI4o

Challenge Complete, Contract Signed, My Cowboy Finals, and Spring Is On The Way

Raritan Bay and the mouth of Whale Creek as seen from Cliffwood Beach's Middlesex County side. 

It was a busy, though short month--and fortunately a mild one as far as the weather goes. Our little part of the world got plenty of rain, which is fine with me because I didn’t have to shovel any snow. The snow fell a few times, but the weather was so warm it all melted quickly. There were several incredibly lovely days and whenever the sun is shining I enjoy going outside to take photographs at one of our wonderful parks or at the beach. I'm always looking for another scene to put on canvas--the photo above might be one of them.

I am happy to say I finished the JerRoWriMo writing challenge. In fact, I finished two days early. For now the title of the book I worked on is Home Somewhere. It’s a contemporary romance and needs a ton of revising, but writing it was lots of fun. I had the basic plot and characters planned before I started the challenge, but much of it was done in the seat-of-the pants style of writing—which for me is a glorious delight. Some writers like to have everything carefully worked out before they start writing. I just like to let it rip—and the challenge helps me do that by forcing my internal editor to keep out of my way. I held myself accountable to write enough words everyday to get to the finish line.

There were days when I didn’t get many words down. My mother-in-law wound up in the hospital and then went to rehab. Friends bought hubby and I tickets to see a show with them. (It was a fun show!) And we went house hunting with our daughter and her husband. Still, several dreary, rainy days were a boon to my word count. The weather helped me even the score for the days when I was unable to get much writing done. In addition, hubby (God bless him!) is not a stickler for an immaculate house and we frequently go out to eat, which is a big help when it comes to writing.

While I’ve never made a lot of money from all my writing, I have received some accolades, which have been very, very sweet. The Cowboy’s Miracle, which won 3rd place in the Ancient City Romance Writers' Heart of Excellence Reader's Choice Award also became a finalist in EPIC's eBook Awards. It's not a Pulitzer Prize, but it gives me joy. 😊

Most of all, I am happy to say I've signed a contract with the Pelican Book Group for Patriot's Courage, which is the third sequel in my Patriot books' saga. 

Oh yes--and spring is coming. The daffodils are daring to reach toward the sun as are the chives and my beautiful Lenten roses.  Along with spring comes EASTER! I can hardly wait to sing all the Alleluias!

Another Writing Challenge!

I’ve written a quite a few books—not as many as some authors—but the ones I’ve written are important to me. I wanted to write them. I had a story to tell and I wasn’t happy until the book was finished. All along, I have been self-motivated. I set goals for myself. I hold myself accountable for writing every day. I don’t watch television, I don’t play games, and there’s lots of dust in my house. Nevertheless, I am not a hermit. I go to writing workshops, I crochet with my prayer shawl group, and I have fun making oil paintings. Hubby and I enjoy the company of our friends. I like to try new recipes, but I enjoy going out to eat as well. My daughters aren't far away and we see each other often.

Like many others, I’ve found there is no end of things to do even though I have been retired from teaching for quite a while. I am busy. I have a schedule, but sometimes that schedule intrudes upon my writing time and I wind up not getting as much done on my work-in-progress as I would like.

However, the New Jersey Romance Writers hold an event every February they call JeRoWriMo—which stands for Jersey Romance Writers Month. During the month of love, everyone who signs up is encouraged to write 30,000 words. Cheerleaders offer accolades to the writers who report in every evening to note their day's word count.

A similar event occurs in November--National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo, but the challenge there is 50,000 words and it's in November. Thanksgiving happens in November as well as other Christmas preparations. I've never attempted NaNoWriMo because I doubted I would ever succeed.

But what happens in February? There's winter, where gloomy weather often makes a perfect writing day for me. There's also Valentine's Day, a great holiday where I get treated to dinner at a restaurant. No cooking for me! No cleanup! Plus there are gifts of chocolate. It's great to write while eating chocolate.

Also in February there's our Presidents' Birthday holiday, Ash Wednesday, and Lent. In other words, there are few social events. It's a great time to put other things aside and pump out words. So far, this month I've put down 16,451 words on a book I initially began writing five years ago, but set aside to write something else.

I have too many ideas. 😜 But it's fun. I'll be doing some spring cleaning in March, but for now it's time to write.

The Immigrant Saint

Many years ago, Daughter #1 chose Frances as her confirmation name--after Francesca Xavier Cabrini. She wrote a brief biography of the saint, as all confirmation candidates must do for the saint whose name they have decided upon. But it was a short biography with little more than the facts.

Recently, my daughter decided to delve deeper into the history of her chosen saint. She found the book pictured here on Amazon and purchased it. She was delighted with the book and loaned it to me.

The book is well-written and engaging. It is not a dull tome about Mother Cabrini. The book details the saint’s fortitude and belief in her mission. At a young age, she fell in love with Christ and longed to be a missionary sister. However, due to her ill health, she was not accepted into any religious communities.

Eventually, after toiling in an orphanage, she was allowed to set up her own community, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart. She had always longed to go to China as a missionary, but Pope Leo XIII sent her to America. She worked with indefatigable zeal to set up orphanages, schools, and hospitals in New York, Chicago, Denver, Seattle, Los Angeles, and in South America as well.

She and her Daughers went down into the mines in Colorado to bring hope to the immigrants who had not seen the inside of a church since they left Italy. They nursed people through outbreaks of yellow fever and smallpox. They begged for money to set up more hospitals, schools, and orphanages.

In her sixty-seven years, Mother Cabrini accomplished more than many successful business men.

Whether you are a Catholic or not, I highly recommend this biography of a truly remarkable woman who did all she could with love to guide her.

The Walled Garden

Last weekend as the shadows lengthened in the late afternoon, I saw the remains of this brick walled garden on the grounds of the Township of Ocean's Historical Museum. It was off to the side of the more famous, ornate water tower at that site. The garden must have been magnificent at one time, full of fragrant, rare blossoms. Now it is only a sad ruin. I'm sure if I return in the summertime, I would find a profusion of weeds, but no roses--or any other delicate prized blooms. Unless someone takes a fancy to the garden, it will never be returned to its former glory for it would cost far too much.

And yet, it’s delightful to imagine sitting on a bench inside the sturdy wall surrounded by the scent of sweet flowers and the steady hum of bees busy at their tasks. I believe this is why I enjoy historical romances so much. It’s delightful to go back in time and see things in their former glory. I cannot fix the garden, but I can envision it as it was in my mind.

Close your eyes and picture it with me. Perhaps we’ll have some tea in fine china cups and a few scones, too. Imagination is wonderful.

Hibernating With A Book

It's cold outside. It's been well below freezing for over a week. I feel like hibernating, which for me usually involves reading a book for hours on end and forgetting about all the other chores I should be doing.

The temperature does not seem to bother the Canadian geese in the park. They don't even huddle together as they sit serenely on the snow. I took this photo from the window of the car. I didn't want to get out of the car.

Today it is supposed to warm up a bit--reaching nearly thirty degrees. Hubby and I plan to remove the Christmas lights which we draped on the bushes before the holiday. Tomorrow we're supposed to have a huge storm and then it will continue to be bitterly cold for a while longer, which is fine with me. I'll huddle under my afghan and make a dent in my To-Be-Read pile of books.

What do you plan to read during this cold snap?

#99cents until December 31st

"This one will keep you on the edge of your seat till the end." Long and Short Reviews

Buy it now at http://a.co/d8d1sKR

FREE at SMASHWORDS

Mark your calendar so you don't miss out on this deal. Go to www.smashwords.com

Christmas Bread

Many years ago, one of my coworkers gave me her recipe for Christmas bread and since then it has become a family favorite in our home. It really is scrumptious, so I thought I would share it. Give it a try. You'll enjoy every morsel.

Christmas Bread

Measure into a large bowl:
1/2 cup butter
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2/3 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon cardamom

Add 2 cups scalded milk. Cool to lukewarm.
Add 2 packages yeast softened in 1/4-cup lukewarm water.
Add 2 beaten eggs and 4 cups flour. Mix well.
Add 1-cup raisins
And 2 cups mixed fruitcake fruit.

Beat in 4 more cups flour.

Place dough in very large bowl, cover and let rise until double.

Punch down and knead on floured board.

Shape into 2 loaves. Place in greased loaf pans and let rise again.

Bake at 350 degrees about 45 minutes.