Inspired by an art installation featuring a Mary Cassatt painting, here are floral close-ups from my lovely neighbor Bridget’s garden.
Saturday, August 8, 2020
Tuesday, June 2, 2020
My attempt at fanfic
My first stab at HP fic. Hope you enjoy it. Written sometime before 2005.
With only the light from the doorway behind her, Lily stood next to the crib, watching over her son.
It was humbling how fiercely she loved him. Harry looked so much like James, especially in his sleep, the dark hair, the way his lips pursed, already with a thick line of lush lashes that she envied.
When she’d carried him under her heart, and first felt that fluttering inside as he moved, she had loved him. Holding him for the first time, she had fallen in love with him. Little Harry had stolen her heart, just as his father had.
For a moment, Lily wished there was a way for them to escape the madness, find a refuge in the Muggle world where Harry could grow up to play soccer. He certainly could kick.
Lily was tired.
Tired of the uncertainty she’d felt since Dumbledore had told them of the prophecy. Tired of the running…the hiding. What frightened her most, though, was how vulnerable she felt since Harry was born, no longer sheltered within in her. Her chest tightened as she vowed to do anything she could to keep him safe.
Her eyes took in his cherubic face, and she smiled as his lips smacked in his sleep. Perhaps Harry was dreaming about his next meal. She’d had to stop nursing last week, after they’d had to leave in the middle of the night. Dumbledore had sent word that too many knew where they were.
She missed nursing, the connection it gave her to her son. Using bottles was a hassle, though she knew it would be more so if she were a Muggle. Bottle-feeding gave James a chance to nurture his son, plus it let him share in the late feedings while she tried to get some sleep.
Lily continued to watch over Harry, her heart seeming to beat in time with the rise and fall of his chest.
The light dimmed, and a floorboard creaked as James came up behind her, hands sliding along her waist.
She leaned back into him, smiling softly as her head rested on his shoulder, nestling into that familiar spot against his neck.
Peace washed over her.
No matter what was going on in the world, for tonight, there were safe.
James looked into the crib at his son, smiling. While people said Harry was the spitting image of him, he saw Lily in the way Harry slept- arms up next to his head, elbows bent so that his tiny fists pressed against his head near his ears, as if ready to block out any noise that might disturb his sleep. He’d caught Lily sleeping like that last night as he slipped back into bed after the 2 a.m. feeding. She’d kicked off the covers, and her raised arms pulled up the t-shirt she wore to bed. Thinking of it had James tighten his arms around Lily, reaching up to cup her breasts in his hands.
Lily smiled a flash of brightness in the dim room. She tilted her head to give him access, shivering as his breath whispered along her neck, biting her lip as the warm wetness of his tongue traced her earlobe. The stubble on his face sent sparks through her, tightening things deep inside her.
She slowly let out her breath as his beloved, familiar voice whispered
“It’s time for bed.”
Lily turned, followed him toward the light, holding tight to his hand and smiling at the promise in his eyes that they wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon.
With only the light from the doorway behind her, Lily stood next to the crib, watching over her son.
It was humbling how fiercely she loved him. Harry looked so much like James, especially in his sleep, the dark hair, the way his lips pursed, already with a thick line of lush lashes that she envied.
When she’d carried him under her heart, and first felt that fluttering inside as he moved, she had loved him. Holding him for the first time, she had fallen in love with him. Little Harry had stolen her heart, just as his father had.
For a moment, Lily wished there was a way for them to escape the madness, find a refuge in the Muggle world where Harry could grow up to play soccer. He certainly could kick.
Lily was tired.
Tired of the uncertainty she’d felt since Dumbledore had told them of the prophecy. Tired of the running…the hiding. What frightened her most, though, was how vulnerable she felt since Harry was born, no longer sheltered within in her. Her chest tightened as she vowed to do anything she could to keep him safe.
Her eyes took in his cherubic face, and she smiled as his lips smacked in his sleep. Perhaps Harry was dreaming about his next meal. She’d had to stop nursing last week, after they’d had to leave in the middle of the night. Dumbledore had sent word that too many knew where they were.
She missed nursing, the connection it gave her to her son. Using bottles was a hassle, though she knew it would be more so if she were a Muggle. Bottle-feeding gave James a chance to nurture his son, plus it let him share in the late feedings while she tried to get some sleep.
Lily continued to watch over Harry, her heart seeming to beat in time with the rise and fall of his chest.
The light dimmed, and a floorboard creaked as James came up behind her, hands sliding along her waist.
She leaned back into him, smiling softly as her head rested on his shoulder, nestling into that familiar spot against his neck.
Peace washed over her.
No matter what was going on in the world, for tonight, there were safe.
James looked into the crib at his son, smiling. While people said Harry was the spitting image of him, he saw Lily in the way Harry slept- arms up next to his head, elbows bent so that his tiny fists pressed against his head near his ears, as if ready to block out any noise that might disturb his sleep. He’d caught Lily sleeping like that last night as he slipped back into bed after the 2 a.m. feeding. She’d kicked off the covers, and her raised arms pulled up the t-shirt she wore to bed. Thinking of it had James tighten his arms around Lily, reaching up to cup her breasts in his hands.
Lily smiled a flash of brightness in the dim room. She tilted her head to give him access, shivering as his breath whispered along her neck, biting her lip as the warm wetness of his tongue traced her earlobe. The stubble on his face sent sparks through her, tightening things deep inside her.
She slowly let out her breath as his beloved, familiar voice whispered
“It’s time for bed.”
Lily turned, followed him toward the light, holding tight to his hand and smiling at the promise in his eyes that they wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon.
Tuesday, January 7, 2020
2019 Reading Roundup
I read 175 books in 2019, a bit off my average, but more
than double what I read in 2018 (80 titles, probably a lifetime low.)
By the Numbers:
Approximately 59,504 pages read
Average length of a book: 341 pages
Mystery: 64
Romance: 46
Sci Fi/Fantasy/Paranormal: 46
Young Adult/Children: 10
I fell off the no Re-Reading Wagon and reread 21 books,
mostly by Anne Bishop, Charlaine Harris, and Kim Harrison. Non-Fiction took a
hit, as I only read 4 books in that category. I tend to primarily read books by
female authors, as only 24 books were written by males, with six written by
male/female co-authors.
At one point in the year, I decided to start tracking my “source”
of reading materials – books I own (approximately 22), or books I borrow from my
libraries, while also tracking if it was a physical or digital copy (at least 43)
of a book. Two of the books were in audio format this year. As I am both a speed
reader and terrible listener, this is not a format I will stick with, but Carrie
Fisher’s voice made listening to the audio version of the The Princess Diarist worth it. The other title was by Carola Dunn,
and I opted for the audio version because none of my libraries had a physical
or e-book option for it.
In looking at my reading trends, I realize my favorite thing
to read are books in a series, as 145 of the 175 books read in 2019 were series
books. A bittersweet read was the final book in Elizabeth Peter’s Amelia Peabody
series, coauthored by Joan Hess after Peters passed away. I could not wait to
get my hands on Big Sky by Kate Atkinson, the next in her Jackson Brodie
series after a long hiatus.
New series I started
this year include Kerry Greenwood’s Phyrne Fisher book (8), three related series
by Gail Carriger (10 books), six in Carola Dunn’s Daisy Dalrymple mysteries, the
first five in Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Department Q books, and four in the Sebastian
St. Cyr series by C.S. Harris.
Top 12 of 2019
12. The Life We Bury by Allen Eskens
I read this on a whim, it was featured as a top choice on
the home page for my library’s online catalogue. Set in Minnesota, it follows a
college student with a troubled past as he interviews a man moved from a prison
to a nursing home for a class project.
11. Storm Cursed by Patricia Briggs
The latest in Briggs’ Mercy Thompson series. While the first
four books remain my favorites, I love the characters in this series so much.
10. What Remains of Heaven by C.S. Harris
Excellent addition to the Sebastian St. Cyr mystery series,
set in Regency England, but with a dark twist.
9. Roar Like a Dandelion by Ruth Krauss
An alphabet picture book, with whimsical phrases and
delightful drawings.
8. Death’s Door: The Truth Behind Michigan’s Largest Mass
Murder by Steve Lehto
An in-depth look at the Italian Hall Disaster (Dec. 24,
1913) in Calumet, Michigan, and the events leading up to the tragedy, and the
fallout after it occurred.
7. Big Sky by Kate Atkinson
The fifth book in her Jackson Brodie series. Almost
impossible to put down.
6. The Wallflower Wager by Tessa Dare
She writes books that both smolder and make me laugh, with captivating
characters and dialogue that keeps the story moving.
5. The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olsen
A crime novel translated from Danish, this is the first in
the Department Q series. The main character is curmudgeonly, and the books
contain a thread of humor that reminds me a bit of Brooklyn 9-9, while the
storylines carry the darkness of Breaking Bad.
4. The Golden Hour by Beatriz Williams
Utterly riveting book, set in the Bahamas, Great Britain and
beyond during World War II. Is it a spoiler to say there was a twist at the
end?
3. In This Grave Hour, To Die But Once, and The American
Agent by Jacqueline Winspear
I somehow fell behind in reading the Maisie Dobbs series,
but reading these three caught me up. I cannot recommend these books enough. Set
in England, the first book is primarily set just after WWI, with flashbacks to
the main character’s childhood. The most recent book is set in the late 1930s.
2. How the Light Gets In by Louise Penny
The ninth book in the Chief Inspector Gamache series, and my
favorite so far. Start with Still Life.
1. Brazen and the Beast by Sarah Maclean
Love her writing style, and how she weaves current topics
into a historical with richly drawn characters and engaging dialogue. She started a FB group for those who love old school romances, and it remains one of my favorites to follow on Facebook.
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