Take Time to Smell the Flowers

 Inspired by an art installation featuring a Mary Cassatt painting, here are floral close-ups from my lovely neighbor Bridget’s garden.

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.

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. 

Ghosts of Christmas trees past

Originally published December 23, 2016

Ghosts of Christmas trees past

My son arrived for the holidays to find no Christmas tree at my new place. I’m sure it did not faze him. I put up two wreaths, decorated windows with gel clings, found a place to dangle the mistletoe, hung our stockings, and set out more holiday décor.

But I miss it.

So many of my ornaments inspire memories of Christmas trees past

I gave away my artificial Christmas tree as it was too big for the apartment. It found a new home with someone who needed a dose of Christmas cheer.

I shopped around Beaver Dam and online, but could not find a tree I both liked and could afford. I do not want a pre-lit tree, as I prefer the tradition of stringing lights while venting my spleen with colorful phrases.

I came across many of my favorite ornaments while unpacking the other holiday décor.

Nestled away are a pear, two golden hearts and tiny pandas. They represent my first Christmas 20 years ago with my son. My parents gave me an artificial tree before they moved from Michigan to Wisconsin that year. As a single mother still in college, I did not have the budget for enough ornaments to fill the top two-thirds of the tree. (My son could reach the bottom third.) So I dug through my jewelry box and secured a necklace pendant and two pairs of earrings to ornament hooks to help fill the gaps.

The gold balls I splurged on for my first Christmas tree have remained packed away for 13 years. They are not shatterproof, which is a problem with a cat who persists in tree climbing and knocking off ornaments.

Other favorites include hobbyhorse ornaments my mother made when we still lived in White Pine, Michigan. Our Christmas trees there were live, usually decorated with tinsel and C5 lights in addition to our ornaments.

Our first Christmas tree in Colorado was also a live tree, and it was the first year we lived in a house with a fireplace mantel for hanging stockings. It was a bittersweet Christmas, as it was the first year we did not travel to my grandparents’ farm for the holiday.

One year we brought home a flocked Christmas tree and decked it with blue lights and blue bulbs to recreate one of my father’s favorite childhood Christmas trees. After moving back to Michigan, we expanded to two Christmas trees – one in the living room and another in the family room. We decorated one tree with the usual ornaments, and gave my mother no end of grief for her choice to dress up the second tree with fake red apples.

After moving to Ohio and before moving back to Wisconsin again, my mother passed down many of the family ornaments to my sister and me. I have bells made out of beads, a ski jumper with my name engraved on the bottorm and several ornaments with pandas on them, as my family nickname is Amanda Panda.

Ornaments I bought for myself over the years include a candy cane made of copper which reminds me of my father, who spent much of his career working at a copper mine in the Upper Peninsula. I also have an ornament shaped like my beloved U.P.

My son and I will spend Christmas Eve and Day with my mother and stepfather, where there will be a tree to place presents under.

So while my ornaments will remain packed away until next year, my memories remain. And I’m reminded of the lesson the Grinch learned in the Dr. Seuss classic.

“What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!”

May you have a safe, healthy and happy holiday weekend.

Merry Christmas.

Original column

Help to make the season bright

Originally published December 17, 2016

Help to make the season bright

Activities last week helped me find my holiday spirit.

I volunteer as a shopper for the Gertrude Christian Children’s Trust Fund. Established in 1977 in memory of a Randolph woman who died in 1974, the fund helps buy gifts for Randolph children ages 13 and under.

Guidelines set up for the fund only allow the interest it accrues to be used to buy a toy or two and an article of essential clothing. The fund was set up with nearly $30,000, which earned more than $2,000 when interest rates were high. Current lower interest rates mean the fund needs donations to help keep it going. A generous donation of toys this year helped provide gifts for 55 children to open on Christmas.

I may need to pursue a career as a personal shopper as I excel at spending money. The lovely Leann Rahn, the deputy clerk/treasurer in Randolph, recruited me several years ago to help with the program, along with Jackie Hein, who took over as the Randolph Police Department secretary when Leann transferred to the village office. Along with Leann’s husband Dan, we set out to shop – each armed with a list of children’s names, their clothing sizes and a few suggestions on hobbies or toys and a budget.

Since my son will soon be 21, and long ago outgrew toys (and my excuse to buy them), I adore exploring the toy aisles and trying to find just the right gift for each child, and then scouring the clothing department to find something for the child to wear.

Last Saturday, I started my day by covering the Dodge County Shop with Cops program. I delighted in following law enforcement officers through the Beaver Dam Walmart as they helped children pick out gifts for their family. It’s an amazing opportunity for kids to meet police officers while learning the lesson that the best gift of all is to give.

Saturday afternoon saw me in Randolph, helping the Randolph Chamber of Commerce put on its annual Santa’s Workshop program. I get to serve as Santa’s helper during the event, made possible through funds by the chamber, volunteers and people who donate baked goods and more. Marsh View Veterinary Clinic donates the supplies and staff to run a craft-making table that children enjoy.

The volunteers included Ellie Jung, Jamie Minnema, Wendi Dykstra, Betty Eisenga and Pam Drzonek.

Suzanne Wendt brought three young helpers along with her. Four high school students: Ashley Walther, Morgan Paul, Alydia Vanderhei and Jessica Bahr volunteered, too. It was fun watching them interact with the children enjoying Santa’s Workshop.

Hutchinson Memorial Library director Peggy Potter buys books, thanks to a generous donor, and the books are raffled off during Santa’s Workshop. As an avid reader, I adored watching children win books. I hope all who helped make Santa’s Workshop possible know how very much their time and donations are appreciated. A very special thanks to Santa Claus, who made every child feel welcome- even those who weren’t so sure about the bearded man in a red suit.

My sincerest apologies if I forgot a volunteer who helped out that day. It flew by in a whirlwind.

The cookies, flyers and décor for Santa’s Workshop were once again made possible by Rita Hookstead. This year, the First Reformed Church in Randolph will host the eighth annual Christmas Day meal. While Rita will deflect any praise for the program to those who donate and volunteer as servers, delivery drivers or greeters, the meal would not be possible without her dynamic organizational skills and the giving heart of her and her family. I find it a blessing and a privilege to call her a friend.

Original story

There’s something about sisters

Originally published in October 2015

There’s something about sisters

Last week, state newspapers ran a story about a 16-year-old girl who stabbed her 14-year-old sister. The sister’s injuries were non-life-threatening, and the attacker was arrested.
What’s scary and yet funny in a macabre way is that story nearly could have been written about my sister and me. We are also two years apart, and, to use a cliché, we fought like cats and dogs while growing up. At one point, in our early teens, we faced off in the kitchen, both armed with knives from the butcher block. After a few tense moments, we came to our senses, put down the knives and backed away from each other. I’m sure we realized that if we hadn’t killed each other, Mom and Dad would have finished the job for us.
As I often said to my mother, “She’s my sister and I love her, but that doesn’t mean I always have to like her.”
Few in my family believe me, as I would have been only 27-months-old at the time, but I have a dim memory of the day my sister came into my life. I remember being at the hospital and looking through a glass window, but what I mostly remember is eating ice cream, the kind that came in a little plastic cup with a wooden stick as a spoon. We must have shared a room when we were very small, but I thankfully have no memory of it.
Other childhood memories of my sister are more vivid. Pam Brown said, “Sisters never quite forgive each other for what happened when they were five.” My sister took a tub of red clay and used it to “decorate” my Holly Hobby toy box. The clay came off, but the red stains never did. She also claimed one of my baby dolls as her own, and convinced mom of the same. Granted, I hadn’t played with that doll in a while, but once she laid claim to it, I wanted it back something fierce. She cut off her own pigtail once and knowing she would get into big trouble for it, tried to claim that I did it to her. She still actually makes that claim, but I know better. Mom does too.
My sister brought the annoyance of “I’m not touching you,” with a pointed finger held about a millimeter away from me to an art form. Mom and Dad often had to threaten to pull over when we’d get going in the backseat of the car.
She liked to needle and annoy me, and I would often barricade myself in my room, desperately wishing for a door that locked. I’d use a magazine rack and whatever else was nearby to block the door. She’d then get a yardstick and slide it underneath.
A friend of the family liked to share the story of how he came across my sister and me running around in the woods near the hunting camp he shared with my Dad. As the story goes, she was following me around, and I stopped and said “why are you always (expletive deleted) me off?”
As I must have been about 6 or 7 at the time, my use of that word was shocking, and to the family friend, hysterically funny.
My sister has always been very tough. If you hit her once, she’d hit back three times. She also had a very twisted sense of what was hers. My clothes were fair game, but to touch any of her wardrobe was to risk bloodshed.
I finally devised a system, so I’d be able to figure out what was missing from my closet. I labeled my hangers. My family still makes fun of me for that, but it was the best I could come up with to keep track of what was mine.
Margaret Mead said that the relationships between sisters is probably the most competitive in a family, but “once sisters are grown, it becomes the strongest relationship.”
After my family moved from Colorado back to Michigan, my sister and I began to get along better. We both went to the same college for a term, and even had a class together. Since she often had to miss class because of volleyball games, we worked out a deal. She’d take notes on days she could attend, and I would doze off. I would stay awake and take notes when she was gone.
People often tell us how much we look alike, something that has made us crazy over the years. We share some weird quirks, the most notable being that if a light switch plate has more than one switch, they all have to be either up or down.
Now that we are adults, we are friends. She still likes to try to needle me, calling my cat Bandit instead of Zoopie. In return, when I visit her place, I re-arrange her carefully placed knick knacks and other decorations.
My sister now lives over five hours away, in Indianapolis. I miss her.
It’s been over a year since my first and only visit to her new home. When she lived in Madison and Fall River, we got together often for shopping expeditions, dinner or a movie. Now we keep in touch with phone calls, the occasional email, and her commenting anonymously to posts I make in my blog.
Linda Sunshine said "If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child."
Though I often expressed the desire to be an only child while growing up, I’m so very glad that I’m not.

Positive Parenting

Originally published in 2008

Positive parenting

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of attending an event hosted by Cambria-Friesland High School. The school district hosted Bill Collar, a speaker, author and educator.

Collar spoke to teachers and students during the day, and a special seminar was held in the evening for parents. Although I went there as a reporter, Collar’s message about the importance of positive parenting appealed to me as a mother, too.

Collar was introduced by Jim Bylsma, who told the crowd about how much he admired and respected Collar. When a person you respect talks about someone they respect, you should pay close attention.
Collar shares Bylsma’s regard, and told the audience what a treasure they have in Bylsma.
“Coaching is teaching...teaching is coaching,” Collar said. “I’m proud to call Jim one of my friends.”
Collar, who has been honored as a “Wisconsin Coach of the Year,” “Wisconsin Social Studies Teacher of the Year” and “Wisconsin Teacher of the Year,” spoke about his background as a parent raising three daughters and his experiences as a teacher and coach in Seymour.
He said that no one in his family had ever gone to college. His father and grandfather owned a tavern. Collar shared a story about h a teacher who encouraged him to go to college and another teacher who told him it would be a miracle if he ever graduated from college. He set out to prove the second teacher wrong and attended UW-LaCrosse.
“I had a 4.0 in my first year,” Collar said. “A 1.8 the first semester and a 2.2 the second.”
He also said that he graduated in two terms - “Kennedy’s and Johnson’s.” Collar graduated after six years and went on to teach and coach.
Collar advised parents to “Keep one blind eye and one deaf ear” when it comes to what is going on in their kids’ lives, but that the most important thing when dealing with teenagers is communication.
“You must keep the lines of communication open,” Collar said.
Collar said that it is important to let your kids know you are proud of them, perhaps just as important as knowing that you love them. He also said that people learn from setbacks, and parents should not work too hard to shield children from failure.
“It’s OK for young people to fail at something. In fact, perhaps they will learn more from it.”
Collar talked about the importance of believing in yourself, and shared tips on how to be a champion in whatever you do, from school, sports and more and the value of preparation, self-discipline, commitment, loyalty, courage, respecting others and hard work.
Collar said that it was important to be a parent to your children, and not a grown-up friend, and used examples from raising his daughters to emphasize his point.
“I never needed friends, I needed daughters who respected me and knew I loved them.”
He also said that instead of focusing on “No” messages to your children like “don’t do drugs” and “don’t drink” to talk to them about making good decisions, and that you trust and believe in them.
After the session, Collar autographed copies of a book he wrote and offered parents copies of a workbook he put together for a student success seminar.
“Attitudes are contagious,” Collar said. “Be sure yours is worth catching.”

Be a parent, not a friend

Two of Bill Collar’s tips on positive parenting and helping your children succeed in school and extra-curricular ativities really resonated with me — his advice about focusing on being a parent to children and not a grown-up friend and that parents should help their kids explore financial aid options for college rather than having their child work too many hours at a part time job to earn money.
I sometimes fear that I am guilty of trying to be more of a friend to my son than a parent. I love to hear him laugh and we share a lot of the same taste in music. He’s pretty well-behaved in public, but with me he can be quite the smart aleck. It’s not entirely his fault, he comes from a long line of smart alecks. I just don’t think he has the healthy balance of fear and respect for me that I had for my parents.
My parents shared Collar’s no job for teens philosophy. They made sure my sister and I had what we needed, plus a small monthly allowance. The occasional babysitting job provided some extra cash. Other than that it was our “job” to be students, giving us plenty of time to focus on learning, sports and other activities and time with our friends. When it came time to pay for college, my parents split the cost of tuition and books 50-50 with me.