Fall, Y’all

Fall is my jam. It’s the best of the seasons. Hands down. Or should I say, leaves down.

The sad thing is, here in Tallahassee, autumn is slow to arrive. Leaves remain a stubborn green and they stick to the trees like glue.

Now, I’m glad I live here in the land of three seasons: Summer, Summer Light, and That Odd Cool Spell Of Indeterminate Length, but sometimes I grow envious of places where the trees put on a regular fashion show with their audaciously bold oranges and reds and yellows. Here we get green and an occasional brown. Yay.

Growing up in the panhandle of Texas I became accustomed to some slight color changes in September. I loved riding my bike through crunchy yellow leaves, while pretending they were the bones of my enemies. I was an odd child.

But in school our teachers would hang paper leaves all over the classroom in colors I assumed weren’t true to life. Red leaves? Purplish leaves? No way. But then I grew up and for a brief time, lived in Illinois where I saw these colors in the wild and I wanted to capture them and take them home with me along with snazzy pine cones.

I made decorations with them and placed them on my dining table then realized there were bugs in the pine cones and we had to call an exterminator. Still, they were pretty til the very end.

Oh Fall. I love you so.

Peace, people!

Reunited and it Feels so Good

All systems are go for a great reunion!

I woke up to great news this morning! My third book in the Happy Valley series went live on Amazon in kindle format. I wanted to hurry online and let everyone know the good news, but the paperback wasn’t yet available.

Now, I’m not a woman of great patience. You have no idea how difficult it was for me to wait. So I got out of the house and drove to the nearest Panera and waited while having a half sandwich and a salad. Food always makes waiting easier—that’s likely why I’m sporting six extra pounds right now.

As I took bite three of my sandwich, the news came through: All systems are green for go.

Okay, it didn’t actually say that, but that’s the message I took away from the email.

So here I am, with a link to my newest book, and hoping my readers won’t make me wait too long before they head to Amazon to purchase it. Seriously, this waiting is taking an awful toll on my waistline.

http://Reunion at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B2HMLBB4/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_6JS4AX3N9C4FSCQ2ESAX

Peace, people!

Description 

Paula Arnett is ready to embark on a new adventure. To that end, she’s made some bold choices, and in the process, surprised some of her dearest friends–all in time for her high school class reunion at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort. While Paula hopes to reconnect and reminisce with her classmates, not everyone on the invitation list has come to party. And when one classmate goes missing, Paula can’t ignore the possibility that something terribly wrong has happened. Even worse, she suspects that someone from her class might be responsible. Add in her burgeoning desire for a reunion with a certain doctor, and the stage is set for mystery and maybe a little romance.

You’re Invited to a Reunion

In a very few days, my newest novel, Reunion at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, will be available on Amazon in both paperback and in kindle and kindle unlimited formats. We’re hoping the book will go live on Monday, but the long weekend might slow things down. I’ll keep you posted. I’ll squeal first, then I’ll write about it.

Reunion is the third book in the Happy Valley series. It’s set fifteen months after the first book, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, and the main character, Paula Arnett, is ready to make some big changes in her life, but she’ll need to survive her high school reunion in order to move forward.

I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

Front cover
Back cover

Peace, people!

Wichita Falls Street Art

On our drive to the Texas panhandle Studly Doright and I stopped in Wichita Falls to pick up our son and grandson. We spent a night at our son’s apartment there and took in some of the sights.

I didn’t take many pictures, but I couldn’t resist this amazing street art that was just a few blocks from our son’s office in the historic downtown district.

???

Mario and LEGO

Grandson, Jackson, posed with a mural.

The closeup of the sign is in the next photo.
#BLM

Cool stuff, eh?

Peace, people.

Three Generations

From left, our son Jason, my husband, Studly Doright, and our grandson, Jackson.

Studly Doright and I were in the Texas panhandle this past week. On our way to his mom’s place in Hereford, Texas, we stopped for the night in Wichita Falls where we picked up our son and his son, and loaded up their motorcycles.

The three of them, along with a carefully selected group of friends and family members, embarked on two days of motorcycling along the Canadian River just north of Amarillo.

It was our grandson, Jackson’s, first real riding experience. Outside of riding a little motorcycle around our yard at Doright Manor, Jackson had never really gotten to experience what motorcycling is all about—the hills and gullies, deep sand and water crossings. This week he encountered all of the above while learning to use a clutch and shift gears. By all accounts he acquitted himself admirably.

His Poppa, aka Studly Doright, had a blast riding with him and with our son, Jason. They’re already saying, “Next year….”

Peace, people!

Common Sense

When did common sense become politicized? When did we stop thinking rationally? Honestly, I’m concerned. You see, most sane adults understand that there’s a pandemic that has taken the lives of more than half a million Americans and an estimated 2.57 million human beings worldwide.

We know that the virus is mutating and that even though there are now vaccines to mitigate the spread of Covid-19 only a small percentage of the population has received the vaccine as of March 5, 2021. We are not anywhere near the point of herd immunity.

And yet certain governors in the U.S. have decided that it’s time to do away with all the restrictions. They’ve opened everything up. No more masks. No more social distancing. No more limits on the number of people who can gather in groups. No more common sense.

Ah! Sweet freedom. Freedom to kill and be killed. Freedom to not care about our friends and neighbors. Freedom from common sense. God help us all.

Texas on My Mind

I’m consumed with watching the news out of Texas this morning. For those who aren’t glued to the Weather Channel, parts of Texas that might see a dusting of snow once every ten years or so, are now experiencing freezing temperatures and icy conditions that would challenge even a seasoned North Dakotan.

We live in Florida now, but Studly and I were born and raised in Texas and most of our relatives still live there. Most of our folks live in the panhandle area which does get snow and ice during the winter and they’re better prepared to deal with the bitter cold. But in and around Austin, Dallas, Houston, and other locations, the infrastructure isn’t holding up.

Yes, we could blame the shortsightedness of certain GOP, libertarian, and Tea Party operatives who have this “every man for himself” mentality, for the mess, but that doesn’t do anything to help those who are freezing even within the confines of their own homes. While some people are ridiculing Texas and Texans, I’m just praying and hoping they get relief soon.

A playground near Houston, I believe.
Frosty the Cactus
Crazy!

Peace, people!

The Panhandle(s)

In my blog I occasionally reference the Texas panhandle as the land of my birth. I throw the word panhandle around assuming everyone knows exactly what I mean. But more than once I’ve had a commenter ask, “What’s the panhandle?” Allow me to illustrate.

Actually, someone already illustrated and labeled it for me. You see, the tan area? That’s the panhandle. At some point somebody thought it looked like the shape of a pan’s handle and named it accordingly. To me it seems too chunky.

Nowadays, I live in the Florida panhandle.

I drew a line around it for you. To me, Florida looks like a gun with the panhandle being the barrel and the peninsula the gun’s handle. I guess the term “Florida gunhandle” didn’t occur to those who had naming rights.

Other U.S. states have panhandles, but I’m tired and don’t want to bore you more than I have already.

Stay safe and warm no matter where you live.

Peace, people.

Something Old; Something Lost

One of my older posts popped up in my feed today and I thought it was worth reposting. “Old and Lost River” was inspired during one of my epic road trips. Damned Covid-19 has shut down my solo travels for the past ten months, so I’m reliving a few in my mind. I hope you’ll enjoy this.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2018/04/04/old-and-lost-river/

The Old and Lost River

Save the Date!

The Testicle Festival is back on. I know how eager my readers are to sink their teeth into some fine bull testicles, often referred to as Rocky Mountain oysters, calf fries, or huevos del toros (literally “bulls’ eggs), among other euphemisms, and here’s the opportunity.

The festival is scheduled for August 1st in one of my favorite places in Texas, the great town of Fredericksburg. “Go for the testicles, stay for the beer,” is what I always say.

I kid, but the festival looks like a lot of fun. If it weren’t for Covid-19, I might attend. And if you’ve never visited Fredericksburg, I suggest adding it to your “to do” list.

https://thebestoftexas.org/texas-testical-festival/

My, Grandmother! What large testicles you have.

Much more palatable looking once they’ve been deep fried.

Peace, people.

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