A Matter of Perspective

by Janis Susan May/Janis Patterson

This past Thanksgiving holiday weekend The Husband and I decided to go to a gigantic flea market – the oldest in Texas – about an hour from our home. Neither of us had been there for a decade or more. This is neither a small nor a quick expedition; the market site covers many acres and has everything from permanent buildings with interior stalls to miles of winding sort-of-paved paths (just exactly the width of a large pickup) with individual open air sites marked off with paint. 

We were there about seven hours and, as we are dedicated lookers who walk rather slowly, saw only about half of it. The weather was cool and perfect, and a slight breeze kept us comfortable. A thin layer of clouds filtered the sun’s glare. Every few yards there was a food hutch of some variety or other and you could find all kinds of flea-market delicacies. I could write an entire post on the corny dogs alone, and the funnel cakes are to die for!

The day was one of the most distressing I have ever had.

Why, you ask?

One of the main draws of this particular flea market is the antiques. You can find everything from a rusted kitchen ricer to an early 19^th century crystal chandelier. My shock came from what is now acceptable to call an antique!

Apparently the pundits of the antique trade have now decided that things from the 50s (that’s the 1950s) can legitimately be called antiques. They even have their own official classification – MidCentury Modern. It’s distressing to see things that I grew up with – some of which I still own and use – marked as ‘antique.’ 

A hammered aluminum (which I love) casserole in a much more battered state than mine was marked almost $40. A blue flowered Corning Ware water kettle – identical to one I was given when I went off to school – ran between $15-20.  (Mine was obtained for two and a half books of Green Stamps, a viable currency in those days.) A rather undistinguished pressed glass bowl my parents received when I was a child for some anniversary or other was well over $50.

And these were all marked as ‘antiques’ – not collectables, not used-but-still-useful objects, but antiques. Arrgh!

Half of me was tempted to go home and clean out the house, bring the stuff back, get a booth and start selling.

The other half of me wanted to cry.

After all, if these things are regarded as legitimate ‘antiques,’ what does that say about me?

Pardon me – I think I’ll go drown my sorrows in a nice, icy Diet Dr. Pepper (the National Drink of Texas!). In an antique, MidCentury Modern aluminum glass, of course.

Having a Family is like running a small Country

My baby boy, son #3, the youngest, has gotten engaged.  I am thrilled that he is marrying his perfect match and also a bit nostalgic.  The event made me think back through the years, and I came to realize that having a family is like running a small country. If not an entire country, then at least a small province inside one. If you think about it, all the required elements are in place.

As the President, I need to balance the budget and occasionally use the concept of deficit spending to cover items acquired by members of the province who did not bother to find out if funds were available before committing. I know how to buy, sell, trade, diversify, borrow, lend, merge, acquire, divest, mediate, arbitrate and intercede.

Pease negotiations? Weekly back in the day.  Someone made off with the new video game; someone can't sit on the recliner because someone else already called dibs, and maybe the most important issue - spy vs. spy "He's looking at me again."  Peace didn't always come easy, but somehow, as President, I managed to achieve intervals of calm through tense dialogue and debate with all affected parties which resulted in a cease fire.

I became a master at negotiating with terrorists (I had three of them) who routinely destroyed possessions in the neighboring provinces (bedrooms). With that, I also had to become a whiz at border disputes (also the bedrooms). I remember being in strategic talks almost weekly concerning and who was allowed inside each bedroom on any given day. I was pretty good at handling that because, coming from smaller and more economically depended states, the envoys from these three sub-provinces brought less to the bargaining table than I did.

Regular press conferences were held to keep the citizens of the sub-provinces informed on what was expected of them.  Questions to which I had no answers were either referred to the Vice President (their father), or received a "no comment" until new data was compiled.

The Red phone, it was actually white back then, was connected to an intricate staff, most of whom has extensive experience in the area of either economy or defense.  For example, the National Guard (mom-mom and pop-pop) were on permanent stand-by status, and were used in cases of extreme emergency. They also turned out to be  the sub-provinces' primary lenders, and seemed to be heavily involved in foreign aid when I cut off all sources of homeland funding.

Other staff members were the Secretary of the Interior - the sales staff at Macy's, Secretary of Agriculture - the cashier at Wegmans, Secretary of Health - family doctor, Secretary of Education - the school principal and Commerce Secretary - me (I shop  a lot).

I also had one of those "Buttons" the are rumored to be in the White House.  It was connected to a black box and covered with a sign that said "Do Not Push Unless All Forms of Peaceful Negotiations Have Failed."  There wasn't anything in it, of course, but I told the Vice President that inside was a one-way ticket to Hawaii and $100,000 in unmarked, non-consecutive bills. I swear there were days when I saw his forefinger hover over that button!!

Somehow we got through all the cold wars, the recessions, the breaks in treaties, periods of tense negotiations on matters of state, and everything else that affects world peace at a scaled down family level, and made it to where we are today. Happy, healthy, and grateful for each other.

So now my last "province" has ceded from the Union and is about to colonize a country of his own.  All I can say is Good Luck and God Bless.  And oh, don't forget, the Motherland would certainly like to see a few new little citizens when the time is right!!!

That's Jarrett and his Bride to Be, Tara,  Not a bad looking couple of Ambassadors from the about to be new Nation of Happily Ever After!!




Kathye Quick, who is preparing to be a MIL for the third time, is in the middle of her nineteenth book.  She writes contemporary romance, historical romance and urban fantasy, and has been known to dabble in humor and non-fiction.

My Foray into Fan Fiction

I have to admit writing fan fiction wasn’t even on my writer’s radar, I’ve never even read a fan fiction book, but when opportunity knocks sometimes you have to open the door to see what’s on the other side. For me the opportunity came after I attended the 2014 Romance Writers of America conference in San Antonio. There I had the chance to hear about a program at Amazon Publishing called Kindle Worlds.  This is not an endorsement one way or the other for this program, this is just my experience venturing into the realm of fandom, as it’s known. I never knew the scope of this phenomenon. I popped on over to the website www.fanfiction.net and found hundreds, if not thousands of subjects where people have added to the worlds created by the original authors. And that was just under the book tab! There are authors who cut their teeth writing fiction this way. Perhaps the most famous is E.L. James the author of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy reportedly written as fan fiction based on the Twilight series created by Stephenie Meyer.

So fan fiction is written by writers who loved a certain story so much they couldn't let the characters go. Popular are the Sweet Valley Series, Catcher in The Rye, Star Trek and many more. Authors of the original work are never paid by the writers who write in their worlds. In Kindle Worlds all of the “Worlds” in this program are licensed works; meaning the original authors share in all the revenue of all the subsequent works created by other writers in their series. For more information you can check out Kindle Worlds at Amazon.

For me the experience so far has been writing one book, in one world. And that would be the world created by Lucy Kevin, aka the mega bestselling author Bella Andre. I decided on The Four Weddings and A Fiasco series. Lucy Kevin wrote four original stories for the series and set them at a wedding venue called The Rose Chalet. My challenge was to continue to use her setting and some of her characters infusing them into my story. The setting is one of my all-time favorite places, the San Francisco area.  So I started my story in wine country, adding my hero and heroine, Scott and Heather, to ones already created! And they get to enjoy the Rose Chalet while mixing business with pleasure. 

The fan fiction experience has been a positive one. I got to debut my first contemporary novella, The Wedding Toast. Writing short after doing full length novels for the bulk of my career was fun! Working with the Kindle Worlds team has been a pleasure. If you are an author looking to add to you writing portfolio you may want to consider exploring the world of fan fiction. If you are a reader wanting to try new authors and new stories, you should definitely look at fan fiction works.

And I would be remiss if I did not recognize one of the best holidays we get to share here in the United States, Thanksgiving. Today I am thankful for my family, particularly my husband, sons, daughter-in-laws and my trio of grandsons! I am also thankful for my friends and family who have supported me throughout my life and my career. And, as always, I’m thankful for new opportunities, those that I’ve found and those yet to come. Happy Thanksgiving!

Tracey sold her first book on 9/9/99! She is the best selling author of the Women of Surprise Historical romance series, Montlake/Avalon Books and writes the contemporary Wine Country Vixen series. You can learn more about Tracey and her books by visiting her website, www.traceylyons.com. Four Weddings and A Fiasco,  The Wedding Toast is available now at http://tinyurl.com/n3927l5.  

Traditions to Pass Along

For nearly 300 years, Americans have celebrated a family event called Thanksgiving. In countries around the world, some form of ‘thanksgiving’ is celebrated at this time of year - the Fall - in gratitude for a good harvest and a hope for continuing good fortune in the coming darker days of winter. Most of these are linked to religious festivals.

The American version of Thanksgiving is unique because the celebration crosses all ethnic, religious and cultural groups as a family celebration. For many of us, it is a major family get-together, celebrating the creation of this country. Thanksgiving Day became a recognized national holiday in the later part of the 19th Century. During the Amerian Civil War, Abraham Lincoln encouraged Americans to gather together to give thanks for the bounty of our freedoms.

In my family, my mother began her efforts days before the fourth Thursday of the month, making fudge, stuffing dates, decorating the house, ironing table cloths and napkins. We were (and still are) a large family. Until late in her life, my mother was the sole cook, hostess and bottle-washer. We young ones eventually stuffed the dates, mixed the fruit salad, prepared the stuffing (always made from scratch). But Mom was the only one of us who made the Parker House Rolls.

I have never been able to match my mother's rolls, though I have mastered the stuffing and my basted turkeys are well-received. My husband is the king of the stuffed dates and one of my daughters-in-law has conquered the pumpkin pie.

This year, our celebrations will be very different because my husband and I are living far from our family. I know that many of my fellow writers on the Classic and Cozy Books blog are amazing gourmet cooks and have treasured family recipes they may be sharing but I wanted to share one that is always a big hit with adults and children alike.

This is also simple and great for children to participate in the preparations of this wonderful family event.

STUFFED DATES

1 package (or more) of dates (pitted is easier but not necessary: the pits separate from the fruit without much effort)

Cream Cheese, Peanut Butter, Hazelnut Chocolate Butter and/or other favorite creamy spread (Cookie Butter Cream, anyone?)

Open each date and drop a ½ teaspoon or so (personal taste is the final determinant!) of any of the above spreads into the center of the date.

Arrange decoratively on a pretty plate and try to get them to the family before they disappear.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all and best wishes for a joyful Christmas season too.

© 2014 Photographs, Leigh Verrill-Rhys, taken in Wales

To Turkey or Not

by Fran McNabb

With Thanksgiving this week, most of us turn our attention to getting together with family and friends and remembering Thanksgiving gatherings from years past.

Most families will celebrate with a traditional meal of turkey and dressing and pumpkin pie, but many families have started their own traditions over the years. Usually I bake a turkey and serve a rice dish called “dirty rice” instead of traditional dressing. “Dirty Rice” is made with lots of seasonings (onions, bell pepper, celery) and several ground meats (pork, beef, chicken gizzards). My family loves it and it doesn’t seem like the holidays without it.

Having said that, this year we aren’t having turkey, dressing or “dirty rice.” Since our boys and their families live away, we got together this past weekend and with only two days together, I didn’t want to give up an entire day in the kitchen. Instead on Saturday we ate grilled shrimp, cooked and eaten downstairs in an area overlooking the bayou. Along with the shrimp we also had grilled alligator wrapped in bacon (caught by my oldest son). On Sunday we had a sit-down dinner of “dobe macaroni” that I had prepared ahead of time, then in the afternoon we finished eating the shrimp by boiling them – not your typical Thanksgiving fare, but foods my boys loved while they were growing up.

After everyone leaves and my husband and I are alone on Thanksgiving Day, we’re not sure what we’ll do for lunch. Maybe we’ll share a traditional turkey meal with other family members in town or maybe we’ll simply spend a quiet day remembering the wonderful two days together with our boys, their wives and our grandsons.

Traditional holiday meals are wonderful, but any holiday spent with family is a good one no matter what is served.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

 

Fran McNabb lives on the Gulf Coast with her husband. Her two sons and two grandsons live elsewhere, but getting together with family is important to her. Several of her books include children and their role in the family. Visit her website at www.FranMcNabb.com.

A Time for Thanks

by Sandy Cody

It's that time of year again - a little less than a week until Thanksgiving - perhaps our noblest holiday. Why the noblest? Because, for one day at least, we take time to be thankful for the things we have instead of longing for the things we lack.

There's no reason for this holiday except to be thankful. We don't expect anyone to give us a gift. We don't have to shop for a special dress and the perfect shoes to compliment it. All we have to do to honor the day is count our blessings ... oh ... and cook. But even that is pretty easy compared to most special days. There's no agonizing over what to serve. The menu is dictated by tradition. In our house that means turkey with the usual accompaniments, including both pumpkin and pecan pies. It may be something different for your family, but whatever appears on your table is probably consistent from one Thanksgiving to the next. If your family is anything like mine, the mere suggestion of something different is enough to prompt lifted eyebrows and silent, disbelieving stares - certainly not gratitude for trying to add a little originality to the holiday. At best, the response would be: "Thanks, but no thanks."

I guess this wouldn't be a Thanksgiving post if I didn't list at least some of the things for which I am most thankful: my family; my health and the health of the people I love; plenty of food; a warm, comfortable home; freedom to worship, think and speak according to my conscience. I started to write that I know these are the same things for which we are all thankful, but it occurs to me that would not be true. Far too many people lack some or even all of these blessings. If I'm honest, I have to admit that I have these things, at least in part, because of an accident of birth, not because of any special merit on my part. And for that accident, I am most thankful.

This has turned out to be more serious than I intended. Sometimes that just happens. The words take over and spill out serious thoughts.

I hope all of you have a seriously Happy Thanksgiving. May you spend the day surrounded by people you love and may the day be the perfect mixture of serious gratitude and silly laughter.

When Did I Start Smelling Like Starbucks?

by Gina Ardito

The other day, as I stepped into the shower for my morning ablutions, I looked at the shelf where all my personal products sat lined up, waiting for their very important role. Something I never noticed before struck me this particular morning.

My shampoo and conditioner are made with green tea extracts. Body wash is "Chai Latte Scent." Face scrub? Orange and grapefruit with honey. Shave cream, vanilla almond.

I'm a walking cornucopia of smells that can be found in your local coffee shop! Even the cream I use to reduce the dark circles under my eyes contains...wait for it...caffeine.

How did this happen? Is it just me? Or are we all walking around in an aromatic cloud of "Essence of Barista"? 

I think back to when my mother was my age and try to recall the items on her bathroom shelf. Now, admittedly, I'm a lot more vain than my mother ever was. I insist that when I die, regardless of my age at the time, my hair will *still* be this color. I generally don't go to the end of my driveway to get the mail unless my hair is styled and my makeup is done. (The hair and makeup mandate does get lifted for writing deadlines, but the mail gets stopped then, too!) Still, I picture that shelf in my mind and I see:

Cream deodorant (Secret, I think. I remember the jar because when I was about ten, I was goofing around with her stuff and dropped it. The glass shattered and I wound up with a nice-sized shard in my foot.)

Hair spray (Aqua Net--the lacquer of hair sprays. The stuff that single-handedly shredded the ozone layer.)

Shampoo (Breck. Or sometimes, Prell. No scent.)

Conditioner? No one used conditioner in those days. Detangler, maybe. And that had no discernible scent. Except maybe...chemical. Like science lab in junior high school.

In fact, when I think about how my mother smelled, you know what comes to mind? Bleach. Seriously. To this day, many decades after my childhood ended, I still remember my mother whenever I smell bleach, particularly on skin. It's a unique scent.  

Of course, to trigger that memory, these days, I have to visit a laundromat. Not exactly the ideal spot to honor those we loved and lost. 

Does this mean that one day, many years hence I hope, whenever my kids want to remember me, they'll have to head to Starbucks? I guess I can live with that. 

"Hoist those cups up high and slug one back for your old ma. And while you're at it, order me a cinnamon dolce latte, will ya?"