Here again, gone again

My life is nuts right now. And it doesn’t promise to get better in the near future. Well, I mean, I’ll enjoy the interruptions coming my way, but what they mean is that I’ll have little or no time to do what I’d like–namely write. Make the changes to Give the Lady a Ride that the editor pointed out. Work on Ride’s  sequel. Finish Corporate Ladder. Write a few magazine articles. Do better than 3700 words for NaNoWriMo.

Is it true for every writer that when real life interrupts what we love, we sometimes resent it? It is hard enough writing when my time isn’t cut short by trips out of town and approaching holidays. Daily distractions prevent me from getting words on the page. The need to network sometimes overrides the need to create. Exhaustion to the point of inability to develop a cohesive thought prevents work. But if I ever get published, ever snag a contract for three or four books a year, I’m going to have to figure out how to write even when everything seems to be working against the process.

So, Tuesday, I’m here. Tomorrow, I leave town again. Thursday afternoon, I return. Friday, I deal with the dentist–again. Then comes the weekend when writing depends on MSB’s schedule. And finally, next week, I have the entire week to myself. Will I spend it writing, or preparing for MSB’s two-week vacation and Thanksgiving and our annual hunt and Christmas? Will I do what I always do and blow off the rest of the year because it’s steeped in distractions and interruptions, or will I finally figure out how to be productive in what little time I do have?

We’ll see . . .

Writing the Christian Mystery, Guest Post by Lizzy Armentrout

I have to be out of town (again), but my friend, Lizzy Armentrout, is filling in for me with a brief essay about writing the Christian mystery. Lizzy’s first book, A Vengeful Spirit, was recently published through Tate Publishing and can be purchased at Amazon.com. 

In a mystery, you need to have some basic elements: a puzzle (in my case, a murder), a victim, a culprit, and a detective. I’m going to be referring to murder mysteries since this is the genre in which I write.

 Before writing the story, I plan out who is going to be murdered, the motive for being murdered, the culprit, and how they’re murdered. Because my writing is classified Christian, I don’t go into long detail about the murder scene. I want everyone to feel comfortable reading what I’ve written. Now, once I’ve planned out the actual murder part, I begin building the story. I am not one to sit down and plan out every single chapter and character beforehand. I work in chapters and allow the story to develop as I write.

One of the hardest things about writing a good mystery is having lots of red herrings. This was probably the hardest part for me. I spent a lot of time brainstorming with my husband on different plot scenarios to give those red herrings to my readers.

I want my book to be realistic but at the same time one that honors Christ. I’m very careful to not use anything that would offend a conservative Christian. The biggest way I went about showing my readers that this is a Christian mystery is through my central characters. The main character, Shelly Gale, is a strong Christian lady and this is shown through her constant communication with the Lord as she deals with her daily struggles. I also used dialogue to give her opportunities to discuss the Bible and God with others around her; therefore, allowing the reader to be exposed to that account from the Scriptures. I wanted my readers to come away from the book looking at Shelly as an example of how to live their daily life.

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear from you. If you want to know more about my book, you can read the first three chapters on line at www.lizzyarmentrout.com.

God Bless!!

I left my money in San Antonio

For Thursday, our last fun day in the Hill Country, Billy and I went to San Antonio to visit with our son, Tony, and Nora, his wife. Neither one of us had been to San Antonio in years, so it was wonderful that Tony now lives there and knows the area well enough to drive us around. Of course, as is true with every Texan, the first place we wanted see was the Alamo. We drove past it, and what a huge disappointment it was! The city had built around it, doing little to preserve its sanctity. It looked so strangely out of place among the skyscrapers, almost like a cheap tourist attraction, that we decided not to stop.

 All our kids are Mexican Food addicts (and so am I), so we were in for another culinary treat in San Antonio. Tony and Nora took us to Mi Tierra Cafe y Panderia (My Land Cafe and Bakery). The restaurant is located in central downtown near El Mercado (the Market Place) and is one busy restaurant. After we turned our name in, we explored a bit. On either side of the entry were shrines set up for Dia de los Muertas–the day of the dead. While Americans celebrate a frightening halloween derived from its Celtic roots, the Mexicans use the day as a joyous way to celebrate the dead. Skeleton dolls are dressed up and displayed around pictures of loved ones who have passed away. A Mexican man was at one of the shrines and explained to us that families in Mexico packed elaborate lunches, guitars (and probably Tequila),  and headed for the cemeteries to celebrate the lives of those who were dead. It didn’t sound quite so morbid when he described it; he almost sounded wistful.  

Before long, our number was called and we entered a wonderful–and huge–restaurant that was already preparing for Christmas inside. Odd contrast to the shrines outside. Once again, I barely remember what I had for lunch because MSB ordered something terrific (in my defense, we try to order different things so we can taste each other’s. This time, he ordered before I did and got what I wanted)–Enchiladas de Pollo en Mole, Chicken enchiladas in a sauce made with bitter chocolate. Oh, my! That was wonderful! And bless Nora’s Latina heart–she’s going to teach me how to make it next time we get together!

 Of course, we couldn’t leave the place without going to the Panderia and trying los dulces (sweets). I was intrigued by one thing on display behind the glass counter: Dulce de Comote — candied sweet potato. It sounded so–soul food, so American South. And it was pure heaven! I’m not sure what they did or how, but the potato was wonderful and enough for Billy and I and anyone else who wanted a bite! 

After lunch, Tony took us to El Mercado, which wasn’t too crowded thanks to the time of year we chose to go. (Seriously, all you who dream of travel after the kids are grown and gone, take all your journeys in October–especially if you’re coming south. Temperatures are mild, the best places are still open–you can’t beat it!). I’m still not sure I have a full idea of what the Market Place looks like, whether there are several buildings involved or just one huge one, but where we went was like a mall. Each shop was tiny, even the stores along the perimeter. Stores on the inside were partitioned off by curtains or temporary walls, and all the shops were crammed with treasures (and the not so treasurable) from Mexico.

                    

So, there you have it all. Our annual trip to the Hill Country in four posts!

Hill Country Home

Just as I promised, here it is: our home away from home in the Texas Hill Country, the Terrapin River Loft, located on the Guadalupe River not far from New Braunfels. (I wrote about the owner, Chris Summers, last year and the post disappeared into cyberspace. On some wild chance someone remembers, she’s the one who makes wetsuits for skin/scuba divers–that’s her on the right, modeling one of her suits.)

The loft is in a residential area in Sattler, Texas, but from the balcony, the only thing noticeable is the peace, the trees and the river–especially since we go during a time most tourists are gone. Facing the balcony, Chris and her husband live on the right and a neighbor we’ve never seen lives on the left, so it’s really quiet.

The first thing we do after unloading our things is to run down to the river. The Guadalupe is beautiful and just as clear as it can get (when it hasn’t rained).  And, of course, it’s chock full of our little feathered friends.

Tony brought our grandson out too, and I can promise Joey had a good time with the ducks! He also had a good time in the aquarium in Cabella’s in Buda:

I doubt you can see the fish in the pic, but Cabella’s has some doozies! Bass, brim, carp, funny looking fish I’m unfamiliar with, all swim around a huge aquarium just to fascinate a little boy (not to mention his grandma!). Cabella’s also has a few wild animals stuffed in realistic poses, and Joey really loved seeing those. We had been eating buffalo burgers in Cabella’s restaurant–all, that is, except Joey. His surroundings were far too fascinating to waste time on his hotdog! His grampa wolfed down his burger and carried him around to see all the animals so his dad and I could eat without worrying about him squirming out of his highchair. Here are a few of the things they got to see:

 

 

Goodness, this post got long. I’ll just have to save San Antonio for next time . . .

Totally Bazaar

About this time every year, Central Texas buzzes with fall fairs, festivals and bazaars. Any given weekend, you can have a catfish dinner, a shrimp dinner or a pancake breakfast, all in the spirit of raising funds for something or another. The third weekend in October is Bremond’s turn, and the fare of choice is barbecue–some of the best in the state. The annual bazaar in this small Polish community is held to raise money for St. Mary’s Catholic Church.

Bremond is where Billy was born and raised, and where we’ll someday retire. As a child, he attended St. Mary’s–the old one, not the new one pictured here–back in the days when mass was delivered in Polish and stern nuns ran the school. Although he’s no longer Catholic, Billy and I have returned every year for the past several to enjoy the extended family, the barbecue, and the auction at the bazaar.

The auction is an event. A wonderful conglomeration of stuff, some good, some not so good, is accumulated in the pavilion, and folks from all over the county and beyond come and bid on homemade wines, jellies and pickles; hand-made quilts and crafts; gift baskets from Bed, Bath and Beyond; John Deere memorabilia; and hay, feed and cattle. Spotters parade whatever’s up for bid in front of a semi-rapt crowd fanning themselves on the aluminum bleachers, while the auctioneer’s first call is bellowed into a squealing PA system. Fortunately for us all, the system doesn’t squeal for long.

Billy and I were sitting on the top of the stands with his sister and brother-in-law and their daughter, when guess who came climbing up to meet us? Well, okay, you can’t guess–she was Billy’s mama’s first cousin (or something like that), Helen. Seventy-eight years old and stepping up those seats to the top as if she were sixteen. Helen’s vivacity and health are enviable. At one point, when she needed a trip to the land of ladies only, she turned around on the bench–the top bench, mind you–and dropped easily to the concrete below. Then (and I’m so embarrassed to mention this), she offered me her shoulder to steady myself on my venture down the back of the stands.

Helen is only a little quirky. Her eccentricity is usually hidden, this time under her pants legs: She wore Halloween socks with bright orange pompons. When I pointed these out to my sister-in-law, she became giddy over them. With all the gushing, Helen decided there was nothing better to do than to take them off and give them away. Right then and there. Then she turned to me and ordered me to come to her house later in the day to receive another pair of Halloween socks. She wanted to treat us fairly. (Yes, I got the socks. Classic Jack O’ Lanterns with their wicked smiles and triangular eyes polka-dot a pair of otherwise white socks which are useful only once a year–and I love them!)

Back to the auction:

Usually, Billy and I spend an outlandish amount of money on home-made goodies, even things I can make myself; but this year, I decided to sit on my hands. I have this sneaky suspicion the natives see me coming and mark me as an easy hit. I didn’t bid on a thing this time. Instead, I nudged Billy for him to bid on some items. Sure enough–no one hiked up his prices like they do mine every year. I can’t remember what all we bought, not as much as usual, but I do know we have about thirty pounds of sweet potatoes we didn’t leave the house with. Thirty pounds! I’ve been serving them at every meal since we got home, and yesterday, I made six jars of sweet potato butter. I followed a recipe for pumpkin butter, with only a slight modification, and came up with the best breakfast spread you can sink your teeth–assuming you like sweet potatoes.

The sweet potatoes weren’t all we brought from Bremond. Aside from visiting Helen in her home, we also dropped in to see Aunt Marie and Uncle Paul. Y’all may remember them; I’ve mentioned them before. Aunt Marie makes the absolute best dill pickles on the planet, and she loves me enough to make sure I have a jar or two to stash away for when we get home. This year, aside from the pickles, we went to her backyard and picked a half-bushel of pears off her tree. I’m making preserves out of some of them today, and probably tomorrow too, since I have so many.

Helen and Aunt Marie didn’t send us away empty-handed. They followed the wonderful tradition of small town America to share whatever they had with whomever crossed their thresholds. Their generosity is so touching, and it makes me wonder what would happen if the tradition caught on in the rest of the nation.

I’m going to spare you the details of my trip to the outlet mall, where I cried at the racks holding beautiful clothes in every size but mine; where I stared in disgust at a reflection that somehow got older with no fair warning; where heaps of clothes that should’ve fit landed on one side of the dressing room and the few that did fit were treasured surprises. Nope, I’m not going to tell you about all that. Instead, I’m going straight to the river and the visit to San Antonio.

Bet ya can’t wait!

Fried Avocados in Downtown Bryan

Billy and I went on our second of three annual trips last week. The first, in the spring, is to Jefferson, Texas. We leave our house by the pond in the forest to go stay in a cabin by a pond in the forest and mosey Jefferson’s beautiful downtown streets. The second trip, this past one, is the one where we leave our house by the pond full of ducks we feed daily and go to Sattler, Texas where we stay in a loft by a river full of ducks we feed daily before moseying around the outlet mall and Cabella’s. For the third trip, in November, we’ll leave our house in East Texas’ hilly countryside to stay in a cabin/triplex in the Texas Hill Country for our annual hunt. Guess you could say we like staying in the country.

Our trip started Saturday, when we ran to Bryan and did some things for Mom for which she treated us to lunch–some sort of something I don’t even remember but hearty enough that I broke a tooth. So tooth #14 is now a tri-cuspid molar waiting for repair Wednesday of this week (please pray for me–this repair will involve the needle).

Jen, John & Amelia (Christmas 2008)

But one of the best parts about Saturday was getting to see the Js and Amelia. The Js are our daughter and son, Jennifer and Joshua, and Jen’s husband, John. Amelia is our absolutely adorable four-year-old granddaughter who gave her grampie at least 20 kisses while trying to pull his whiskers out.

The Js recommended we go to downtown Bryan for supper, which was a wonderful surprise for me. I was raised in Bryan, and Bryanites in my age group were among the last to see the downtown area die. I remember being six years old or so, and trying to keep up with Mom while we shopped the stores in the early ’60s, when ’50s generation ladies, in their shirt-waist dresses with seamed hose and shoes that matched their purses, came face-to-face with the new generation of tie-dye and bell bottoms. The Palace and Queen theaters held movies like The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit and Herbie, the Love Bug. Those were the days when Petula Clark sang “Downtown,” and the words had meaning.

Then in the ’70s a new phenomena appeared: the Mall. Manor East Mall went up on Villa Maria, near my childhood home, and downtown Bryan died a slow, painful death. The only businesses to survive were Catalina Hatters and the True Value stores. The theaters closed, the hotels were eventually boarded up–even the library relocated. The courthouse and city buildings kept the area viable, but as a fun place for families to go and have fun? Nope. The entire area became dangerous after dark. And that’s how I remembered downtown Bryan even after I left the city.

But, now, in 2009, the Js were not only recommending we go downtown–they suggested going after dark! The whole idea was exhilarating–like dropping in on Freddie just before his next killing spree.

Imagine my surprise to see the old town looking so good. You can’t tell from the picture, but the A&M kids have turned the downtown area into a happening place. When we were there (granted, it wasn’t that late–just after seven), cars and kids were everywhere. It’s a beautiful area now, far more attractive than I remember.

We ate at a place affectionately called Casa Rod–Casa Rodriguez. It was so crowded, we actually had to wait for a table. Billy had the fried, beef-stuffed avacado; Jen had the same, only stuffed with chicken. I haven’t figured out how they get the pit out and put it back together around the filling yet, but they bread it with what looks to be panko crumbs and flash fry it just long enough for the crumbs to crisp. Although I had the tamales, I slipped a bite of Billy’s avacado–and was sorry I didn’t order it myself!

Casa Rod was established in 1978, but it wasn’t located downtown. Now, it’s one of several restaurants there. It’s wonderful to see my old stomping grounds vibrant again.

And it was wonderful being with the Js and Amelia and pigging out on some of Bryan’s best fare. What a great start to our vacation.

Our next stop was in Bremond for the bazaar–what ’til ya hear about that!

Author Raechel Bailey Kolb, Part II

Raechel and Sindi

I introduced Raechel Monday. Today, she gives some insight to her writing methods. She sounds just like me, writing by the seat of her pants!

What kind of planning do you do before writing a novel, article or book?

Planning? Do people really plan to write? Maybe I should try that. I just get an idea and let it flow out. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with a sudden inspiration. I roll it around in my head so I can remember what it was about, so I can write it as soon as I get my fingers on the keyboard.

Do you edit as you go or wait until completing the first draft? Do you have a certain procedure that you follow?

When I’m working my first draft, I do very little editing. The first draft process has been different for each book. Sometimes I fast forward to the action, the high points and when I know where the story goes, I can go back and fill in the spaces, build the characters and make the whole work. Sometimes I know exactly what I want to say and the story builds as I write. Sometimes I have too big of an idea and I have to find a way to make it more compact. I always set the book aside for a month or so after I think it’s finished and then do a very critical review. Margarita on the Rocks evolved from a short and spicy romance into a novel of depth and intrigue. I guess my writing is very much like endurance riding. I go where the trail leads and do whatever it takes to finish the ride. Sometimes the ride takes me back to base camp and I find that the next loop is more challenging than the first. Other times, the ride is point to point. The stories reflect my love of the sport of endurance riding, regardless of the content within the novel.
How long does it normally take you to write a book?

I started writing Dance in June of 2007 and it was published in November that same year. Since then I’ve written nearly 600,000 words in the other 4 novels combined. Since I switch between books, it’s hard to know just how long it takes to write a single book. But the hours logged are well over 2,000 for each. I anticipate publishing one book each year.

What was your favorite scene/chapter from a book you’ve written?

In Margarita on the Rocks, I LOVE Adam, the old Indian who guides Mike Conner in his search for love. This character evolved from a couple of old codger’s I’ve known over the years. Near the end of the book, Adam explains how the natural life of a man can be explained by the teeth he has as he lives his life. Admittedly, I’m jabbing fun at men a little here in this satirical scene. But if I can snicker when I’m writing a piece, it makes my day.
Tell us how you come up with characters.

My characters evolve from people I’ve known in my life. I change the names to protect the innocent (and guilty). By using my friends and family, it is easy to keep characters true to form. You may find yourself in a book someday… or not… or is that really you? My best friends are sometimes not portrayed in flattering roles. But since the names hide their true identities, they are thrilled to find themselves in my stories, in spite of the roles the characters play.

What are you currently writing?

I’m currently working on three novels in different stages of completion. All are part of my Intriguing Trails Series. I’m fairly well focused on the next in the series; Edge of Sunset, a coming of age story. I find that it keeps my work interesting and I can better develop the characters by moving between books.

How do you reach new readers?

That’s the tough part. I go to craft fairs, horse shows, endurance rides, and talk to everyone about my books. I’m starting to explore ways to make my website work for me and reach out to horse lovers everywhere. I target horse lovers because I think that this is a large group of people who have been ignored for many years. I realize that horse owners, especially endurance riders, have precious little time to read. But there are so many horse lovers who don’t have a horse and want to touch and smell horses. If I can reach them, all the better. Now, that doesn’t mean that other people won’t be equally intrigued. One of my biggest fans just likes interesting books to read. She can’t wait for my next book. That is when I know I’m on the right trail!

Tell us again how readers can contact you.

Check into my website Intriguing Trails. My email address is there. I welcome emails and love to exchange ideas with anyone who is willing to come along the trails!

Author Raechel Bailey Kolb, Part I

Raechel and Sindi

Since I began my research for Roping Venus, I’ve met some wonderful people, like Raechel Bailey Kolb, from the organization, Women Writing the West. Raechel contacted me in response to a poll I had set up in that site, and we’ve been in contact ever since. She is a wife, restauranteur, artist, and horse lover, but her site, Intriguing Trails, illustrates her true favorites: writing and trail riding. As a long-standing member of the AERC (American Endurance Ride Conference), she has logged in over six thousand miles of endurance riding in some of America’s most beautiful country side, and her books are derived from her experiences.

One of those rides led to a series of books–Wait. Why don’t I just let her tell you:
How did you come to be a writer?

I have always loved writing. But the novel was a step I hadn’t considered until I was laid up with mono in 2006. A good friend told me that I should write a book. After an adventure with a friend that turned unexpectedly into an overnight stay in the Colorado wilderness, I sat down at my computer. One thing led to another, and a book was born, then another, and another and… well, they just keep coming.

How long have you been writing?

I wrote my first words before I was in kindergarten. My older sister used to come home and teach me what she learned. As a result, I was writing two years ahead of my grade level. When I was in sixth grade, my first sonnet was published in the high school newspaper after my sister entered it in a competition. I won, beating the best that our gifted high school offered. It was about a phantom horse that ran in my dreams. I still remember some of the lines, but regrettably, I don’t have any copies of it.

When was your first book published?

In 2007, I published A Dance Around the Desert through Authorhouse. The learning curve there was steep, but it was well received and was chosen as a finalist in the 2008 USA Best Book Awards.

We exchanged a series of emails recently–which you titled “Sugar or Spice” — in which we were trying to decide how to categorize your writing, whether G, PG or R. You elected R.

Yes, my writing is adult fiction. I would not recommend my work to children younger than 15 (if I hesitate to let my 15 year old read it, I won’t publish it). I don’t perceive my writing as bubble-gum innocent.  Sometimes what I don’t say is more suggestive than what I do… Such is the power of being an author.

Tell us about your latest book.

Margarita on the Rocks is an exciting romance with a southwestern, spicy twist. There is no doubt that this novel is saucy with some edgy sensuality. It is iconoclastic, and while the reader may just take a fun romp, most will find an intriguing surprise. The story takes place in the old mining town of Globem, Arizona, and travels through the Superstition Mountains, Horseshoe Bend on the Salt River, Paradox, Colorado, and Silver City, New Mexico. Think about those names! How fantastic that we have such terrific places for settings!

This book is a companion to A Dance Around the Desert, offering more intrigue and suspense to the characters in that novel. While each of my novels are self sustaining, they also play a role in a larger story. Such is life, after all. We play roles in the lives of people we’ve never met. At times, our actions create ripples that cross time and distance to impact people who have never heard of us.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Every story has an element of truth. I write my best when I’ve “been there, done that.” I’ve been in love, lust, and longing. Sometimes names draw a story right out of the computer! “Margarita” means daisy in Spanish. It’s my favorite drink and I love the song about “wasting away in Margaritaville.” All of my novels live within a horse community and offer some adventure with horses. I’ve ridden my horse in so many different situations, conditions, places and ways that I’ll never run out of ideas. Fifteen thousand miles on horseback gives one a great number of hours to contemplate the meaning of life. I’ve ridden my horse all over this country on endurance rides and pack trips. I’ve been lost and found. The greater problem is deciding which to include in what story and how to keep a handle on my words.

Tune in Wednesday for more from Raechel. Between now and then, if we’ve piqued your interest, you can reach her through her website www.intriguingtrails.org. You’ll find more about her books there, including her book ordering  and  contact information. She welcomes emails and would love to exchange ideas with anyone who is willing to come along the trails!

Publishing House Thomas Nelson’s Big Announcement

I’m going to be gone for several days, but I couldn’t leave without sharing the news: Publishing giant Thomas Nelson is going to offer an imprint for self-publication. Michael Hyatt made the announcement recently in his blog, Michael Hyatt, Leading with Purpose. Thomas Nelson’s new division is Westbow Press, and is in partnership with Author Solutions.

Among Mike’s readers, the announcement generated quite a response–both pro and con, but mostly pro.  One of the benefits of self-pubbing through Westbow Press is the possibility a self-pubbed writer will catch the eye of the powers that be in the house. If that happens, he/she may receive a contract from them. Also, although the packages are priced higher than can be found elsewhere, most of them include some form of promotional aid.

Of course, as one person commented on the site, if an author is successful promoting his own book, why would he want to sign a contract with TN, thereby losing some of his profits? Mike answered the question in his site convincingly: Alone, an author could sell thousands. With a publishing company, the author could sell millions.

So, while I’m gone, I’d like to know: What do you think?

(Choose all that apply):

Feel free to leave a comment and state your opinion. I’d love to know what you think. I may not be able to answer right away, but I promise I’ll get back with you.

Saturdays with Stella, by Allison Pittman

Every now and then, I read a book that deserves front-page space–and this is one of them.

If you like my posts about my ducks and cats, you’ll love Allison’s book. She wrote about training her dog, Stella, and took Stella’s lessons a bit further to illustrate what she learned about God through those lessons. The subtitle of her book is How My Dog Taught Me to Sit, Stay, and Come When God Calls.

This book doesn’t read like a devotional, even though it is. Because of Allison’s incredible descriptive abilities, I giggled all the way through it. Stella is quite a charming character! And Stella’s owner has a wonderful sense of humor. She’s also candid about her Christian walk, which I greatly appreciate. She isn’t writing from the standpoint of being holy, but as someone who watches movies she probably shouldn’t, laughs at jokes she probably shouldn’t, and has a houseful of “idols that vie for my attention and affection,” (aka TV, computer, etc.). As she says, if she were back in the Sinai with the wandering Jewish people being led, taught, and punished by God, she would’ve been “death number 14,273.”

In other words, she’s a lot like me. Bless her heart.

I have some friends who may get upset about this revelation, but I don’t generally like devotionals. They always seem to be written by someone so far advanced in their walk with Christ, that they couldn’t understand a lowlife sinner like me. And so often, the devotions end with words to encourage introspection. “Do you” do this or that? or ”Shouldn’t you” be doing whatever? Usually, I finish reading these posts and essays feeling worse about myself. No, I don’t do this or that and I probably shoud be, but I know myself well enough to know that I will for awhile, then I’ll slip back into just being me. Praise God–He loves me anyway.

Allison shares some wonderful insights mixed with humor and humanness. To read the antics of that delightful pup is reason enough to get the book, but the true blessings come from the lessons Allison learned and shared with us.