Home for the Holidays (Planes, Trains, Automobiles, and Boats)

Altogether too soon December has arrived again, try hard as I might to ignore that fact. In my mind's eye, since I was a child, I see the year as moving from top to bottom. Strange I know, but hey, to each their own. The problem with this is I've always seen December as the bottom of the barrel, the last month to endure before a brand new year with its own shiny promises arrives. Therefore, we enter into the beginning of the end of 2015, and the endless round of political correctness that is known as the Holiday Season.

When I was young, my grandparents would drive up from their home in Florida to spend the week with us. Since my cousin lived with them, she would come too. I remember one Christmas Eve being awakened to the sight of snow falling. Later that night we sat around the silver aluminum Christmas tree, complete with rotating color wheel, and listen to holiday music until the grown-ups were tired and made us children all disappear with vague hints of Santa.

As a teen, Christmas meant my brother and sister returning home with their families. (They're a lot older than I.) My brother bought a plane so they could fly in for the day and leave before dark. Since he was a doctor, time off for the holidays was non-existent. Soon the peace and love and family we had spent weeks basking in became a 4 to 6 hour free-for-all as we attempted presents, food, bridge (our family pastime), and family time.

My own children always spent Christmas Eve with my husband's family and Christmas Day at home. For almost 30 years Christmas dinner has been my contribution and gift of love to family and friends. It's the only time of the year when I spare no detail on the meal and dessert. One year we left right after Christmas to spend the remaining holiday vacation on a cruise. All I will say is: Interesting.

Now I am a grandmother, and home for the holidays has a completely different meaning. Though my baby is still at home/college, my eldest has a step-son and his wife is pregnant with their first. All I want to see now is the smile on my grandson's face as he shares the wonder of Christmas from the heart of a five year old. Time will once more slow down, as we remember those days of our own childhoods and the magical mornings of discovery around the Christmas tree. (No longer silver aluminum thank goodness!)

No matter how our holidays change throughout the years, we must never lose sight of the true magic this month brings: love for one another.

Speaking of the holidays, Christina Hollis has a new release coming this December from the Wild Rose Press: Heart of A Hostage. Check it out:

Mihail strides out of Maia's past to take her hostage. Who will end up in more danger—her, or him?

Princess Maia has it all—including a horrible fiancé chosen for her by the king, and a family bullying her into doing the right thing—but all she wants is her independence. When she falls into the hands of rebel leader, Mihail, she tastes real freedom for the first time. Mihail is a lone wolf, Public Enemy Number One, and heir to a fierce tradition. A dangerous reputation, a castle full of guilty secrets and now rescuing Maia are all woven into his master plan. He can’t lose.
Until his unexpected hostage turns out to be the house guest from hell...

The buy link for the ebook is http://bit.ly/1iNf2Gw, /paperback is http://bit.ly/1HBEbQk 

You can check out Christina on her website at www.christinahollis.com, or on her Blog: http://christinahollis.blogspot.co.uk

How the Time Flies!

Merry Christmas, a day late!

I thought about posting this yesterday, but Christmas is a time to spend together with family and friends. This year was my son's first with his girlfriend and her 2 year old son, so he got to experience for the first time, all the craziness that goes with making accommodations for two sets of parents and grandparents. It brought a smile to my face, watching my first born take those steps in manhood, a rite of passage I didn't even know existed until it happened.

With 50+ Christmas' under my belt, I sat and thought long and hard about the most memorable holiday experiences of my life. Most are happy, family and friends; the worst stands out every year: the year my father was in intensive care with an unknown infection and a fever bordering on 104 degrees.

My father went into the hospital the first week of December 1982, with a high fever and general aches and pains of unknown origin. Three days into the stay, he suffered the first seizure, while I was on the phone with my mother. Racing to join her from three different directions, my siblings and I made our way there. The news - Daddy had a stroke. Then came the phone call I dreaded, come to the hospital now, your father is dying.

Upon arrival I was informed my strong, invincible father had a hole in his heart. Conferring with my brother the doctor in South Carolina the decision was made to move Daddy to Emory Hospital, where my brother had a friend in the cardiac department. Since he was too sick to move by ambulance, a Life Flight helicopter was arranged.

The worst feeling I ever had was watching the 'copter leave not knowing that when it landed he would be alive. All three of us had our own cars, so we each drove across town, reconnecting in the parking lot. As we walked into Emory, there was the Life Flight crew walking back out to leave for another mission. Seeing us, they stopped to tell us Daddy made it through the flight and was in the Coronary Care Unit.

Speaking with my brother by pay phone, I sat by the window of his room, watching the action through a crack at the bottom of the blinds and relaying everything to John as he drove through the night to join us at Emory.

Everything eventually calmed down and Daddy stayed at Emory for 9 months before returning home a most different man than the one who left. But I will never forget that first Christmas without him at home, when my sister and I decorated a palm tree in Mother's living room with bows and ribbons and called it a tree.

Daddy died 9 year's later, 22 years old come next March, but I will always associate his illness with Christmas. It makes each one precious, knowing that at any moment it could be the last you have.

Happy Holidays, and as today is the first day - Happy Kwanzaa for those who celebrate. Please stop back by starting on New Year's Day and continuing for a week for a chance to win a $25 gift card to either Amazon.com or B&N.com; or a signed copy of my e-book, "Catalyst - Guardian Rising".

Wow, What a Rush!

Last weekend here in Georgia was magnificent. Clear blue skies, pleasant temperatures - all the right ingredients for contemplating my next story!

Actually, I have three that are battling for attention and it is becoming crowded in my head. Everyone is talking at once, all of them convinced their story is the most important, and I hoped taking last weekend off from writing and just wandering through the woods on horseback would put all the pieces in order. I was partly right.

Ever since childhood I have found solace in the forest. The lack of noise pollution, the quiet acceptance of the creatures, these are just two of the reasons I love the woods. As a teenager I would disappear into the trees behind our house (usually with a stolen pack of cigarettes I'm afraid), to spend hours staring up at the tall Georgia pines and majestic oaks; working out the mysteries of the universe in two hours or less before dark.

Riding through the property was awesome. The weather was just right, my mare figured out the way home and all I had to do was sit back and think. All my characters came forward and presented their cases.

I need to finish the synopsis for book 2 of the Guardian Stories. That is the first priority. Everything is ready for submission and waiting on me to finish the synopsis. But for some reason I am having a block against sitting down and writing, not just the synopsis but anything. My mind is full of snot, compliments of my children and husband, and I cannot put words together in any sort of sense.

There are two other stories vying for attention, who have also fallen victims to the mucus attack. I promised one the first crack when clean oxygen returns to my brain, but the other is going to have to wait, much to their consternation. I hate to say no to the voices in my head, but between making chicken soup for everyone, working two email accounts for work, picking up prescriptions, and blowing my own nose - something has to give.

All these things and more slogged through my densely crowded brain while Penny (the horse) and I tackled the woods and hills of Northwest Georgia. Wind from Superstorm Sandy the previous weekend had removed most of the leaves from the hardwoods. The sun was bright in a brilliant blue sky, with not a cloud to be seen and the air was warm until the light breeze stirred up a chill to brush the skin.

After a while it began to dawn on me to stop being so hard on myself. I need to just allow myself the time to care for my family and myself; something I tend not to do when I am in full on writing / working mode. September and October were crazy at my day job. My crews were out working more than 70 hours nine weeks in a row, which of course meant hubby and I were working those same hours. If my brain is overtaxed, there's a good reason for it.

So I've decided to spend some time doing nothing. I've worked hard, I owe myself downtime, and no one is going to deprive me of the opportunity to clean out the cobwebs and snot. I know many people are participating in the NaNo WrMo challenge of 50,000 words and more power to each of you! Believe me, I would if I could. But that's not where my head is at this moment. While the rest of you write, I'm going to relax, catch up on my reading and work on outlining my next book.

With that goal in mind, I make the pledge to not do any "serious" writing until after Thanksgiving, which is amazingly only one week away. So, for one week I am taking suggestion for books to read. I have a Nook and would like at least 5 books to choose from. If you know of something I should check out, leave me the title and author.

And with that, I'm off for the day. I think taking the pressure off might kick start the healing processes, and that might spread to the rest of my sickly family. And a healthy family for Thanksgiving is the best blessing of all!

Spring Showers Bring...Road Trips

Once the great Turnip Green disaster of 2012 was averted, I thought for sure my garden was on its way. Seedlings were popping up, squash and cucumber vines began sending out their first runners, and my pumpkins appeared to have been set into pure fertilizer. Visions of fresh vegetables danced through my head at night, and on Sunday mornings I couldn't wait to be on the road to measure the week's progress. Then - another crisis.

From Mother's Day until Father's Day, I was out of town. Not for business, not for fun, but for family issues. First, my 92 year old mother lives with my brother and his family. My sister-in-law was getting a well deserved break and would be gone for two weeks. Since my brother has odd hours (he's a doctor), my sister and I decided to split the assignment between the two of us. So for ten day I 'baby sat' my mother. It was wonderful.

I had always been a Daddy's girl,. My mother and I get along, but I'm a strange child (it says so in my baby book). Only when my dad died early did Mother and I finally come to a mutual place from which to base our adult relationship. When she could no longer drive herself around, my brother moved her into his house in South Carolina. It was the best thing (did I mention she is 92?) and we all agreed it was time, but afterward I discovered it hurt.

Spending ten days sitting with my mom, talking, working crossword puzzles, watching every game show on television, fixing her meals - it was glorious. For really the first time in my adult life we related and bonded and discussed past history which cannot be undone. When Memorial Day weekend rolled around and it was time to go home, I was so sad I didn't even listen to the radio the entire three hour drive. I wanted to just savor the moment.

Well, the next day I returned to my little slice of vegetable heaven, only to discover nothing had been done in 10 days. Okay, in gardening terms, ten days is an entire season. The weeds were taking over. I lost my carrots, my lettuce, my peppers, everything that wasn't a squash, pumpkin, cucumber or beans had simply been overwhelmed. For five hours I pulled and grunted and cursed (again) my city-slicker hubby, but as the sun began to sink over the horizon there was a semblance of order in my plot.

Then, less than a week later, my aunt died. Back out of town I go, knowing that when I returned there would be more weeds to wrangle, plus they were cutting hay that week. I prayed no one would run over the pumpkins, which by this time had already started to bloom. Returning six days later, I raced up the expressway only to discover - more zucchini and summer squash than Carter has Little Pills (obscure 60's reference - look it up!).

When I say zucchini, I mean green blimps! These monsters were at least 7 pounds a piece and as long as my arm. Nothing close to the grocery store zucchini. My first thought was: did I plant the wrong seeds? But then I looked at summer squash and they were enormous yellow pillows! You think I am kidding? One summer squash made a casserole that fed three people for four days! My hubby asked if I bought the seeds from some mutant source. They were huge and they didn't stop coming for weeks. Even my usually eager town friends were saying no thanks, we've had enough.

Harvesting everything that was ready took two extra large storage tubs from Wal Mart. After some more weeding (those turnip greens were stubborn little twits), I left knowing that upcoming weekend I would again be out of town - this time for a family wedding in Ohio!

Well, the gardening fun didn't stop there. Next time, we will discuss who knows more: my city boy husband, or me?

Welcome To My Mid-Life Crisis

This fall I will turn fifty, a point of dread for me since my mother turned fifty. Of course I was only 8 at the time and thought my mother would shrivel up and die. I mean, really - half a century seemed ANCIENT! Of course, as the magic age has steadily approached my opinion has changed. I know I won't shrivel up once my birthday arrives. Or at least I hope not.

But in preparation for this momentous occasion I decided to learn new skills, or resurrect skills not used since my childhood. First up on the list: plant a garden for the purpose of canning and freezing food for the winter.

My father's family were farmers and every year, no matter where we lived, there was always a garden. Fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, not to mention trips to the big farmer's market would provide plenty of fresh vegetables for the months when good produce was hard to find. While it isn't such a necessity to have a personal garden any more, nothing can beat the taste of good, fresh produce.

Helpful hubby promised to be of assistance and my father-in-law plowed the garden up at his farm, about an hour north of where we live. After carefully searching the Internet for heirloom seeds (plants which can produce seeds for replanting) I made my selections and off we went to create our first garden together in 25 years of marriage.

Little did I know that I have married the only man in North Georgia to never have spent any time in a garden!

Join me for my series: So... You Want to Plant a Garden! as I provide a play-by-play commentary on my summer project. It will make you laugh. I promise!

25 Randon Things About Me...

1) My mother was in a math honor society, my father was an aeronautic engineer and I have problems adding 2 + 2 without a calculator.

2) There was a family portrait of my great-great-great-great-great grandmother where the eyes followed where ever in the room you were standing. I would not go into that room after dark unless all the lights were on and someone came with me.

3) I love old movies.  It is great to share with my parents movies they saw during the 30's, 40's, and 50s.

4) When I was in elementary school, my grandmother used to pick me up from school every day. It started being embarrassing about 5th grade, especially after the police stopped her one afternoon for driving 15mph in a 45.

5) My husband and I have worked together 24/7/365 for 17 years. It works because we are usually never stressed at the same time.

6) When I was a child, I used to think that if I didn't do things in the same order every day something bad would happen to me. That was the beginning of my OCD. I still do the same routine every morning: shower, moisturizer, teeth, makeup, hair. Steve thinks I am really weird.

7) I always wanted a dog as a child, but my mom and dad both had issues about dogs.

8) One of my favorite memories of my dad is from when I was a teenager. I worked at Six Flags and he and I got home from work about the same time every morning (God bless the night shift!). We would sit up for hours and discuss every time from politics to religion to absolutely meaningless crap, but it was great because it was just us two.

9) My brother, sister and I all married left handed people, but only one of our offspring is left handed (my sister's daughter).

10) My first boyfriend was from Cumming and grew up on a farm.

11) I had a near death experience as a child. It has shaped my view on Heaven, God and the afterlife ever since.

12) I love horses and always wanted to work with them until I found out there was no money in it. I love the time I spend volunteering at Blue Skies. Winston Churchill once said "There is something about the outside of the horse that is good for the inside of a man" and i firmly believe that is true.

13) I am scared of certain heights. I cannot dive, but I love roller coasters. I love glass elevators, but cannot stand at the edge and look down. I think it is because I was pushed off a high dive as a child. (By my swim teacher of all people!!)

14) My children are my greatest accomplishments. They are each amazing in different ways. I know they will be close even after Dad and Mom are long gone.

15) I would rather read a good book than watch a bad movie. Do not try to understand my reading tastes - they range from biography to science fiction. One summer I decided to read nothing but Russian novelists.

16)  Soon my first book will be published. I think everyone will like it. At least, I hope so.

17) My sister and I were never close until we got older.

18) If I am your friend, know that I will stick up for you till hell freezes over unless you throw me under the bus. Then - it is on.

19) When we retire I want to spend at least a year travelling with Steve and the dogs in an RV. Afterward we can settle down and live out our days.

20) If I could go back and start again from, say 9th grade, I cannot think of many things that I would change.

21) My favorite sport is soccer.

22) I didn't think this would be as hard as it has been.

23) Why do we park on driveways and drive on parkways?

24) I only watch the Super Bowl for the commercials. The game itself (GO Steelers!!!) gets too slow.

25) I love my family and pray for them each every day.

Preparing for the Holidays

It takes time to gear up for the holidays. Time to shop, time to cook, clean, wrap, cook some more, wrap more and then all of your hard work is ripped open, eaten, dirtied or broken before the relatives are all gone. It is sad to think for most of us the credit card memories will linger long past the holiday glaze our faces acquire somewhere around dark on Christmas Day.

Don't get me wrong - I love Christmas. From the smell of bourbon with eggnog to the sparkle of color wheel on the silver aluminum tree I have strong memories about this special day more than any other. My brother and sister showing me where the Christmas presents were hidden so I would open them and get in trouble with my mother; wondering why Santa used the same felt tip writing pen as my father and my grandmother always given my dad a carton of smokes every year are just a few of my more interesting tales of holiday bliss. Oh families, where would we be without them?

But the good thing about Christmas is it keeps coming back year after year. A new chance to make great memories or to have it all spoiled in the blink of an eye because no one remembered to tell you the vegetarian second cousin of your late uncle's ex-wife now eats meat and your great-aunt Martha's second husband gets gas if he eats yams instead of sweet potatoes. (Who knew there was a difference?) 

As we grow older (but not necessarily up), the faces around the tables change as people come and go. Parents become children and children grow up to have their own children and the cycle continues, back up to the top of the clock on New Year's Day.

I wouldn't miss a single day of the entire season. Even a writer can't make up stuff as weird as the truth.