Well, we’re about 24 hours from closing and soon our home will belong to our buyer. We’ve worked hard to infuse as much love and joy into that house as we can, and if it’s true that homes have feelings, he should be all warm and fuzzy by tomorrow evening.

As for us, we are warm and fuzzy thanks to Son and DIL and Grandboy, who have welcomed us into their home and created a lovely temporary resting place as we look for a new house. Son made me a little office space, there is a wet bar that is our “kitchen,” and the bedroom and private bath are cozy and comfortable. We’re settling in, but we don’t want to get too comfortable. We’d like to try to find a house before summer is over.

Last night, Grandboy and I had a lovely time singing made-up rhyming monster songs when I tucked him in and we cuddled for a few minutes. He’s such a sweet soul, much like his mom and dad. All in all, we’re exhausted, but okay. I think we’re going to take a short break and try to regroup, then begin the house hunt. A few days at the lake will help immensely, I’m sure, plus a couple of writer buds are coming by next week for a writing day, so that will be fun, too.

Our routine will be back in force as Sunday we serve communion at church and I’m back to work with editing gigs and writing on novel 3 for the Four Irish Brothers Winery series for Tule Publishing and get ready for promotion for book 2, which releases July 18. A cover reveal and pre-order should be coming up soon! All in all, we survived the house selling and moving to storage… the next steps are pure adventure.

Gratitude for today: Son, DIL, and Grandboy–how generous and gracious they are! Good friends in our mover and realtor, who’ve had our backs through all this and continue to be there for us. Gracious clients who’ve stood by as I’ve had to stop work briefly during the actual move. All the folks who’ve helped or offered to, specifically Moe, who packed like a trooper and Terri, who cleaned with us yesterday. Merci, mes amies!! And all praise and glory to God, who has kept his hand of protection around us and listened to my weepy prayers and imprecations. God is good.

Remember that the Authors with Heart 2019 giveaway is happening right now! Stop by and enter to win one of eight great tote bags filled with lots of fun goodies! Click the link above to enter!

Until next week, mes amies, remember to hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

~Nan~

I’m actually getting this up on the right day, aren’t you proud of me? Well, don’t be because I should be writing on book 3 for the Four Irish Brothers Winery series or working on editing gigs. However, yesterday was somewhat of a victory, so I’m celebrating by keeping to my planned schedule.

We got the garage and attic decluttered! YAY! Sent a truckload of stuff with the Fire Dawgs–a great group of guys who take care of junk for people who’ve lived in a house for 35 years and collected…well, a lot of stuff they no longer need. Our attic is empty for the first time in 35 years and the garage is officially ready to pack for the movers. The Fire Dawgs were amazing–quick, kind, efficient, and understanding. We really appreciated their hard work on our behalf.
As we watched them drive away, Husband said, “We never could have done that ourselves.” That may not sound huge, but for him to confess that something was beyond him is more than huge. It’s acceptance of help and he’s getting better at that throughout this process. I’m really proud of the way he’s been able to release some of the hard work to others. If you’re married to or know an engineer, you’ll understand how difficult that is for him.

We’ve had such great help as we’ve made this journey–Our realtor, Lynn, from ReMax Ability has been our salvation, and our mover, Fred, from Guardian Relocation is the best. Both of them have shown such consideration and care for re-homing these two old empty-nesters. We can’t imagine having done any of this without them. It’s wonderful to have thoughtful, caring people on your team–hugs and assurances of “We’ve got your back,” have helped us more than they can imagine. I’m still a wreck and probably will be until the closing is done, but each step we finish means, as my pal Liz Flaherty keeps telling me, another big sigh of relief. And Lynn keeps telling us the fun part (finding a new home) is coming. I’m truly ready for the fun part!

So gratitude for this week, all the good folks helping us along this very new and different path; support from dear friends and family; my faith, which keeps me tethered even when I feel adrift; Tule Publishing and their support for my writing; and lilacs–my lilacs are blooming and they are lovely and sweet.

Until next week, mes amies, remember to hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

~Nan~

I didn’t think it was possible for life to get busier, but it has as we draw nearer to closing on the house and moving. So much to do and so many things to think about! However, all that stuff doesn’t mean I’m excused from my copy-editing gigs or writing. I have deadlines on both, so I’m still deep into Aidan and Holly’s story and the work that I’m contracted to do for my clients. Yesterday, though, I did some work in the yard and it was lovely to be completely mindless for just a couple of hours.

I’m working on some promotion today for Sean and Megan’s book, which is currently in production at Tule Publishing. We don’t have a title yet, but we will soon and I’ll share that when it happens. The cover, too, which should be along in the next few weeks. But for fun, here are the people that make me think of Sean Flaherty (Michael Fassbender) and Megan Mackenzie (Louise O’Reilly) . Thoughts?

Be sure to grab my pal, Liz Flaherty’s holiday novella, The Dark Horse at a special price today–just 99 cents! It’s part of a fun boxed set and is there really a wrong time to read a holiday romance? (Bonus: It’s also in Kindle Unlimited!)

Gratitude for today: Husband, who is my rock always; Son and DIL, who’ve been so gracious and generous as we’re making this transition; our realtor, whose knowledge and kindness is holding us up; the green in our yard reminding me of what a beautiful place we’re sharing with our buyer; a chance to work in said yard yesterday and give it a little extra love for the new owner.

Until next week, mes amies, remember to hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

~Nan~

I’m writing this on Fat Tuesday–we’ve been running moving-type errands today, getting ready for the movers to come tomorrow to pick up what Fred, our mover, (he rocks!) calls “the declutter load.” We’ve emptied closets, packed box after box, bin after bin, taken down photographs, and packed away tchotchkes and beloved knickknacks in an attempt to depersonalize our home in preparation for staging it and putting it up for sale.

It’s been…freeing in many ways but also bittersweet, and I’ve discovered that there is no way to neutralize this house. It’s been too lived in, too loved in. Our rooms are cozy and warm and inviting, so I’m counting on that vibe to sell this place. The yard is huge and the trees provide shade for us and sanctuary for the critters who’ve made their homes in our woods–deer, groundhogs, raccoons, foxes, and birds.

We heard our owl the other night, and we wondered together whether we’d hear owls in our new home, wherever that may be. We’re hoping for some good-sized trees in a much smaller yard along with a smaller house all on one level. I’ll miss my little garret at the back of the upstairs, but a new sunny office will be lovely, too.
Husband will miss mowing on his lawn tractor, but a smaller yard means less upkeep, less work. and maybe a chance for a couple of tomato and pepper plants. We couldn’t keep a garden here because the critters think we planted it for their feasting pleasure. Over the years, we tried everything to discourage them, including an electric fence, but when a squirrel bit the wire and electrocuted himself a few years back, we gave it up and decided to buy our fresh veggies at the farmer’s market or get them from dear brother-in-law, who has a bodacious garden in his backyard.

So, we’re getting there and some of the huge tasks that seemed insurmountable just two months ago are done–new shutters are hung, the old boat is on its way to boat heaven, the brush out front is cut, and the purging is nearly complete. We don’t know yet where we’ll end up, but there’s more pleasure now in the idea of moving and that’s a good thing.

As always, mes amies, remember to hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

~Nan~

When people ask me what I do, my answer sometimes depends on how and why they ask the question. If it’s a random, we-just-met-at-an-event kind of query, I choose my answer based on how involved I want to get in the conversation. I know how bitchy that sounds, but sometimes, you just don’t want to have a long conversation with someone you know for certain is going to immediately chortle when you tell them you’re a romance writer. So those folks get “I’m a freelance copy editor.” Then the conversation can steer toward “Oh, I bet that’s interesting,” rather than a smirking “Really? Like 50 Shades? Heh, heh.” Yeesh…

Sometimes they ask, “What do you do for a living?” That’s easy, I’m a freelance copy editor for a living. I don’t earn enough from book sales to consider it a living, although I’m closer now than I was a few years ago. I can’t give up the editing gigs just yet, and even if I could, I’m not sure I’d would. I love editing almost as much as I love writing.

Then there’s the dilemma of telling someone I’m a writer versus telling them I’m an author. I’ve always differentiated writer from author–my delineation being whether or not I was published. A writer writes. An author writes and sells books, but she also markets and promotes and suffers mightily over rankings on Amazon and making lists such as the USA Today or NY Times bestseller list. So, based on that criteria, either one works for me at this point. However, before I started this article, I looked up both words and guess what! Webster doesn’t differentiate between a writer and an author.

A writer is “one who writes.” An author is “one who originates or creates; a writer of a literary work, such as a book.” So am I the only writer who didn’t consider herself an author until her first book was published? And what was it about being indie published that made me doubt my own authority as an author? (See what I did there? A little word play, tee hee.) Why did I not truly feel like an author until I had a 4-book deal with a traditional publisher? If all I ever wrote were articles on this blog, would I be any less an author than the writers who write and sell millions of books? That’s my question for the universe today–how do you define yourself–writer or author? Does it even matter?

As always, mes amies, remember to hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

~Nan~

I’m learning to make promo pieces and man, am I having fun! I’m doing it with Canva, an online program that lets me create graphics for free. I’ve been experimenting since right before A SMALL TOWN CHRISTMAS released and used some of my handiwork to promote the book. Here’s my favorite one. The top is a graphic that the amazing Lee Hyat did for me, but I added the bottom part. When I get a little better at this, I’ll go find some  more great winery photos, either in my own collection or I’ll buy some and see what I can do.

Here’s one I created to show what great reviews the book is getting. I realize I’m using the same concept for all of them right now, but I’m constrained by not having the full program and maybe a little intimidated about trying anything fancier. I like the simple lines in these. However, This program is so much fun, I’m seriously considering signing up for the full version. I think I could get really creative just in time for Sean’s book… Oh, have I mentioned that Sean’s story is coming up next. It is… more on that next time.

Anyway, that’s been my late-night fun after long, long days of editing.

As always, mes amies, remember to hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

~Nan

Remember when Mondays meant starting a new work or school week? When the weekend was over and reality hit? I have a confession–since Husband’s been retired, I never know what day it is. Seriously, I don’t. Most of the time I couldn’t tell you whether it was Sunday or Thursday.

It’s worse at the lake because every day at the lake feels like Saturday. Weird phenomenon, but it’s true. The only way I can keep track of anything happening during the summer is to consult my trusty Google calendar. It may get easier beginning this week because Grandboy starts school on August 8, which I happen to know is Wednesday, but I only know this because DIL and I had a conversation about how odd it was to start school on a Wednesday.

Grandboy in school means that the kids will only be at the lake on weekends from now until time to close up the cottages, unless he has an off Friday or Monday. Then I’ll be confused again.

So here’s the thing. Husband loves the freedom of not caring what day of the week it is. Heck, he loves not even knowing what time it is! He took his watch off the day he retired and he hasn’t worn it since. I work at home–on a deadline, but it’s a nebulous this book is due back to the publisher on a date two or three weeks out kind of deadline. So, although I have to know my deadline date, I don’t need to know specifically what day today is.

I need to get more attuned to what day of the week it is however, because I’m going to start promotion for my new Four Irish Brothers Winery series from Tule Publishing soon. I’ll be blog touring and posting hither and yon about Conor and Sam’s book, A Small Town Christmas, which releases October 29. That happens to be a Monday–I looked it up.

So talk to me, do you always know what day it is? Do you care what day it is? Retirement means not having to care, but there’s also a certain amount of security in knowing that today is Monday.

Until next time, mes amies, remember, hold your face to the sun, be grateful for all things, and love well.

Nan

Seems like this year, June is going to start out with an emotions overload. Yesterday was sister Kate’s birthday. She’d have been 67 and we lost her way too soon. I was so counting on becoming feisty senior citizens with my sisters, like my Nana and her sister Alice. They were so funny and got on one another’s nerves and loved each other with all their hearts. I thank God I still have PJ to make those kinds of memories with–we’ve promised each other we’ll live to an old age and drive each other crazy.  I’m counting on you, PJ!

Today is the celebration of life service for my friend and neighbor, Bon–she passed in April (another victim of evil cancer), but her family decided to have the service today on what would have been her and David’s 56th wedding anniversary. I confess to wishing they’d simply had it back in April because Tuesday is the first anniversary of Dee’s death and I’m already feeling bereft at the thought.

But you know, I think there’s a chance that this may be the new normal for me because I’m getting to the age where friends die. People are living longer because medical science is keeping diseases like cancer at bay longer and we are better at taking care of ourselves. The fact is, though, that I’m almost 65 years old and that’s senior in anyone’s book. Right now, I feel old because my body hurts from switching up my exercise and my arthritis is screaming at me, but I don’t want to be old. Well, not old and sick anyway.

So to answer the question in the title of this post–I think I want to get older and better. I want to be that fascinating old lady that people want to get to know better because man, she’s a little crazy and a lot of fun. I want to write romantic books and swim in the lake and go boating and play with the Grandboy and enjoy Husband and Son and DIL and my friends. I want to find a place to volunteer this winter and be of help to someone other than myself. I want to learn more about everything and taste some different wine and learn to cook some new and exotic dishes. I’m not done yet, not nearly done. Yeah, I’m getting older, but I’m also getting better . . . and that’s okay. That’s okay.

Dian Griesel has started a fabulous new website geared for folks over 50 called Silver Disobedience. She interviewed me for a feature spot and it’s up on the website this week. Check it out–so much fun!

On Wednesday, I posted this to the Word Wranglers blog–take a minute and read it. I’ll wait here.

Are you a Phubber?

Oh, good, you’re back! Then today I read this article on a phenomenon called “phubbing,” which is the habit of snubbing someone in favor of a mobile phone. We’ve all done it. Some of us do it. I tend to do it most at breakfast because I’m tracking my food on my WW app or checking points for food or… okay checking to see what’s coming in the mail and yes, okay, checking Twitter and Instagram. I don’t have Facebook on my phone because I was spending too much time there. Starting to think maybe Twitter needs to go, too…hmmmm.

Then last night, I caught myself looking at my phone while I was sitting across from my sister at a Maundy Thursday gathering at church. She said something to me and I looked up from my phone and had to ask her to repeat it. She didn’t say anything about the phone, but the look on her face clearly said, “I’m here, whoever’s texting you is not.” She may not even have been thinking that, but man, oh man, that’s what I saw. So I turned turned off my phone, dropped it into my purse, and focused. I focused on my sister and the meal we were eating, I focused on the service, which was beautiful, and I focused on helping bring warm water for the feet/hand washing. I shared communion with my tablemates and passed the peace with my fellow worshippers. I sang. I prayed. I helped clean up. I didn’t touch my phone again until I got into my car in the parking lot, where I turned it on long enough to text Husband that I was on my way home. The beauty of that service and the joy of the fellowship stayed with me all the way home and then I was able to share it with Husband.

Yeah, there’s a lesson there. Be in the moment. Enjoy the here and now because this particular moment isn’t ever going to happen again. Nothing on Twitter or texts or Instagram is as important as what’s happening right in front of me. Or as important as anyone I love.

Gratitude for today:

• Last night’s service
• Spring is here, but I could do without so much rain
• Writing
• Reading
• Husband is done with the taxes