Bundle

I have a problem with Februrary. It happens every year. While I love the shifting seasons and cycle of nature, my enthusiasm for the slow turn of Mother Nature's wheel wanes this month. Right now it's just about ground to a bone-crunching halt.

We're having another blizzard. Sigh. And while the days are getting longer, there's not yet evidence enough of sunlight to pierce the haze of winter grimness.
If I were a big fan of Valentine's Day, it would help. Some celebrating would break up the month, offering a nice dose of anticipation. Unfortunately I'm kind of a Valentine's hater. I love romance, but the oversell of this particular holiday undercuts my enjoyment of it. I tend to snark at the icky rhetoric deployed by jewelry adds (i.e. love = diamonds!!!) instead of losing myself in a chocolate coma like I should.
In light of my grumpy mood, I thought I'd put out a call for all things comfort. I'm actively creating my favorite Comfort Bundle. While the snow drifts and wind wails outside I am sitting with my dogs on the couch. They are happy, little snuggle bugs that make me smile.

I also love macaroni and cheese made with extra cheese and hot sauce. Yum.

I will be drinking lots of coffee.

And I will watch Buffy.

And maybe these things will add up to take my February blues away.

What's your go-to comfort bundle?

Winter Butterfly

I love the shift in seasons.

I know, I know. Two months ago I ranted about October snow - but I love the shift in seasons when they happen at the appropriate time. Early or late snow freaks me out.

Now that it's December and we're diving toward the Solstice, I'm enjoying the drop in temperatures and the delicate flakes that lazily drift through the air.

Winter has another benefit as well: complete wardrobe transformation.

Living in a true four seasons climate means we Northern folk get to emerge from our respective cocoons not one, but four times a year. Winter, spring, summer, fall - each have their own sets of clothes. When the temperature drops I rifle through my closet, discovering velvety corduroys and woolen skirts long neglected through summer and fall. It feels like a shopping spree occurred where I didn't have to spend any money!

As much as I enjoy pleasant weather, I don't think I could sacrifice this seasonal bliss for year round temperature stability. My brother lives in LA (he reads this blog and I'm about to mock him, sorry little bro!) and just sent his Christmas list - which put mine to shame by the way - in which he requested an "LA winter coat."

Guffaw! There is no LA winter. He needs a light jacket, which I believe will contribute much more to style than defense from the elements.
As for me I'll be packing up breezy cotton skirts and sheer tops, which I'll stow away until it's time for the next cocoon to break open, welcoming spring rain and warm Zephyr wind. Given that I live in Minnesota, it probably won't happen until May.

Octobrrrr

We lost fall. I don't know how it happened.

After the warmest September on record, October arrived in a cloak of winter. Temperatures dropped 30 degrees overnight and this morning:
The first time it happened was Saturday, but I'd hoped it had been a fluke. But today there's no deluding myself. Winter is here.
Minnesota has a reputation for being a frozen wasteland 11 months out of the year, but that's a lie. It's only a frozen wasteland in January and February (okay and sometimes March). Most of the year we have glorious weather.

And autumn is the best of all. But this year we're missing it and it's breaking my heart. Leaves blanketed in snow are still green. I haven't walked along the Mississippi to gaze at sun-dappled reds, golds, and bronzes reflected in the river's surface.If you need me, I'll be sulking.

What's All This Writing About?

I'm getting a lot of questions about the book, so here's a basic overview.

Title: A Fine, Feathered Fate

Genre: Teen Fantasy

Synopsis: Eliza can't face another day working on her family's farm. She's tired of smelling like manure and pulling straw from her tangled hair when she goes to bed at night. Even as she plots her escape whilst gathering eggs in the hen hutch, Eliza reaches under a clucking chicken and pulls out an egg that is...hollow.

Not only does this egg lack a scrumptious yolk, but its tiny golden latch springs open to reveal a tightly curled note that reads: Wait.

Day by day Eliza returns to the hen hutch to find more and more notes tucked within hollow eggs. She can't bear to leave the farm without unraveling the mystery of each message. Where are the hollow eggs coming from? Who is writing the notes?

The chickens seem pretty normal (and illiterate) except for the rooster, who has taken to following Eliza everywhere she goes on the farm. He's always crowed by Eliza's window at dawn, and his eyes sparkle with intelligence uncharacteristic of vapid chickendom. What could the rooster's strange behavior mean? Is he really a rooster at all? A villain? Prince charming trapped in a feathered, beaked body? Can Eliza save them both from a life of monotonous plowing, planting, and commercial farm production?

The world may never know.

Happy April Fools.

Seriously now, since my novel is with an agent and about to be submitted I can't post about it. When I'm able I will and hope to share lots of good news with all of you.

It's snowing in Minneapolis today - an April Fool's joke from Mother Nature that seems to be repeated in Minnesota every year.