Boy meets Girl

I am astonished at the perception many associate with meeting the right one. In my mind there exists no true pattern. How we find love is unique and oft times very simple. As an avid reader of romance novels, I am surprised by the blueprint for finding love. First there must be tension or a conflict to overcome. When the climax arrives love is truly acknowledged, they get married and live happily ever after. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those writers. I’ve fallen into the trap of deciding what dramatic event will bring my two love interests together. And as a reader the draw to reading such novels is to be thrilled and swept away.

The reality is so strikingly different. Love comes in a variety of packages. There is the simplest form when boy meets girl—the high school sweethearts. The college romance where you spot each other across the library or bump into each other at a party. At times it’s the forbidden work romance, or in my case—love online. I love the stories from our grandparents who met at a community dance. We mustn’t forget the blind dates, where rationale was tossed out the door when we agreed, yet fortunately this time someone matched you right. And I admire those whose marriages were arranged and loved each other through dedication.

Whether these are your stories or something similar, I doubt we look back and think—“Thank goodness I survived that catastrophe…oh, and found my love.” Finding your mate isn’t easy, but it rarely involves a dangerous episode or devastating situation.

When all is said and done, I appreciate reality. That lack of flair and excitement was actually there with butterflies in your stomach and the ever questioning “Is this real?” Your bravery was taking that leap of faith to press on, and even more, being strong and wise enough to keep love afloat. You survived doubt and daily conflict to earn your lovers heart.

So I offer a toast to love today, Valentine’s Day. Remember that your love story holds just as much merit as the ones told in books. You tasted that first nectar of love and are proof that your spouse is still your favorite flavor. I applaud romance for the strength it gives us—to stride in life with support by your side and someone to cuddle with during the normal everyday aspects of life.

Honeymoon Heist Review

I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed Honeymoon Heist. I am a true blue romantic who devours romance novels by the gallon. There is something about the road towards ultimate love that has me captivated—whether it’s tumultuous and full of battles or a sweet romance that builds with tenderness. When I read the back cover to find the couple already married I was slightly reluctant. “They already had their blossoming courtship,” I sighed. But I indulged myself and figured as a married woman there has to be love after the whirlwind romance?

Anna Jones Buttimore has done what few have accomplished in my opinion. She flipped the situation around by giving the characters a brief courtship and then a honeymoon with more twists than Lombard Road in San Francisco. The honeymoon becomes the romance on a real stage—reality. Too many times we are susceptible to Hollywood’s portrayal of romance, yet there is so much more. Life happens after marriage as the real discovery of who you married begins. Rodney and Clair Hewlett are on the epitome of self discovery in marriage.

I loved how their romance wasn’t perfect. He’s too plain, she too beautiful and of course her past with it ex-husband. They still dwell on the others imperfections, but their admiration for each other grows by leaps and bounds. Rodney makes mental notes of what Claire likes and dislikes and guides his future actions by those observations. Claire moves beyond seeing Rodney’s ordinary appearance to perceiving a capable man who achieves more than her handsome ex even could. They are true to life characters who fight as all couples do, but the endearing part is how much they adore each other afterwards. Their trials during this crazy adventure suit them perfectly. It pulls Rodney out of his shell into a less precise man and makes Claire rely on him more and recognize his worth.

My favorite scene is when Claire describes how holding hands during their courtship spoke volumes about each other. “As though they were desperate to touch each other as much as possible, they had held hands almost constantly. Claire found it amusing that they could almost communicate through their intertwined fingers. A squeeze could mean anything from ‘I found that funny’ to ‘I love you’ or even ‘I’m scared’.” Even a slight movement of their clasped hands could direct the other around.

I would highly recommend Honeymoon heist for two reasons. The heist, which takes you from underground caves to hiding away in cars in such a delightful and amusing way filled with comedy and action. But most importantly, to witness the growth of affection between to polar opposites creating a stable relationship in place of failed expectations. Note: This is an LDS novel, but the only religious references are to marriage lasting for eternity. Who wouldn't want that?

Rearview Mirror Review

I have always read Stephanie Black’s novels with some hesitation. Perhaps it’s how well she writes her thrillers—compacted with such description to make you believe you are there in the room watching things unfold. Yet determined as ever to put my fears aside I curled up with her latest Rearview Mirror.

What a delight. Fear lurked in every corner, but instead of pulling the covers over my head I was presented with a gift. Stephanie distracted me with her whose-done-it scenario. I felt as if I was playing the game Clue, crossing off possible suspects only to add a new one to my list. Although I still winced at the gory scenes, jumped at the unexpected turns, I was captivated by my role to help solve the mystery.

In perfect fashion the story captivated you until the very end. Bravo, Ms. Black for trilling us readers with the best mystery I’ve ever read. I would highly recommend Rearview Mirror to all—squeamish or not.

A Mother with Multiple Hats

As a survived another frantic morning before school began I found my mind counting up the number of hats I’ve worn within a ninety minute timeframe.  After dragging myself out of bed and rushing through my own preparations, my time had to be put to the side in favor of my children. First I put on the helmet of a drill sergeant and entered our three daughters share bedroom blaring the mommy alarm—loud singing, stripping of blankets, tickling toes and tummies, turning on the radio to an obscene level of annoying music and last but not least flipping on the lights.

After instituting the wake up call, I replaced the helmet for a floppy chef’s hat.  Orders were flying as quickly as minds became alert. Scrambled eggs and toast was the standard issue today, but in typical fashion I ended up with three different orders—“hold the cheese”, “no toast, please” and “can I have something more?” Deftly doling out the meals as the kids dragged in, I put my helmet back on and stated dishing out orders. They were the standard ones—pack your bag, brush your teeth, comb your hair and make your bed—but either they lacked the ability to be fully aware in the morning or they mentally preferred being barked at. One girl is spot on, another marches to her own tune and one plays deaf.

As the troops march about, sometimes to the tune of “about face” to keep them in the right direction, I shift my role to running a beauty salon. This is why I get up earlier than my kids—every hairdresser I’ve met looks glamorous instilling in their patrons a desire to look only half as good. Pulling out my weapons of choice—hairdryer, detangler spray and brush—I am ready to get to work. Kids line up in stations (my drill techniques still in place). First it’s washing hair at the sink, followed by hair drying and some semblance of styling. That too depends on the child—the typical headband, a strange position for a ponytail and whatever mom chooses.

While we are playing salon, I shift to being resident dentist placing my mask over my face and reminding them to brush back and front as well as the choppers. Then its pins in my mouth as I play the local seamstress and pin up this or that. Oh…the cafeteria needs to be opened again, lunches have to be made. Placing the rumpled chef’s hat back on my head I take orders for lunch. Its tuna fish, but like breakfast it comes with different specifications—“pickles”, “no pickles” and “can I have my in a container since I don’t like bread?”

By the time we have marched to our rooms, made our beds and put away our PJ’s I feel as if I’ve run a marathon. Kids are ushered out of the house, dressed in warm clothes despite the whines and I finally get to shift to being just a mother. With a kiss on each forehead I sigh as my grown up kids head off to be instructed and drilled by another.

But my duties are done yet, I still have to pull out my calculator and be the family accountant. I’ll bite my nails as I balance the check register and wonder for the third time why I bought that item. Success and relief are not always the result of this task, but I move on for my day is yet to begin. I’m a garbage woman, the maid, sometimes the sous chef making dinner preparations or the tireless gofer running endless errands. At other times I’m the resident nurse and always a guidance counselor.

I know I’m not alone out there. Many of you, mothers, grandmothers or sweet singles all wear multiple hats. As I’ve dwelled on this fact two things came to mind.  I hope I am appreciated for my duties and thank goodness women were blessed with boundless drive. So tell me, what are your hats?

My Husband -- My Best Friend

     I suppose it may be uncommon to say that, but I’m grateful I can. It’s not as if we spend hours together shopping at the store or making crafts like I would do with a girlfriend. Instead he is that rock that I can lean on. We can do nothing but hang out with a movie and we both feel complete. He’s the first one I want to talk to and will listen when I go on and on. I could share more, but I’d rather not embarrass him. 

     I think the difference between a husband who’s a lover and one who’s your friend is that with the latter you get both. Those romantic moments are sweet and fulfilling, but when romance isn’t daily you don’t feel cheated.

     A best-friend-husband means you can coincide in life with practical harmony. There are no failed expectations because you are more likely to give than take. Your friends make be fickle and critical, but your BFH knows you better. That messy house is partly his fault and the kids are made from his genes too.

     The best part is that men aren’t catty. They grow use to your lack of flare, course you have forgiven them for their love handles. They don’t judge you based on what you have created; in fact they would probably be content with a house with fewer decorations.

     The trick I believe is starting with a BFH. Since my husband and I met online we were friends first and I appreciate that fact more and more. We didn’t have showy dates and awkward conversation; we got right to the core and grew closer in the process.

     I’m not a love guru, so I can’t say how to create the perfect BFH. Maybe its simplicity in our expectations, or being a team in every aspect.  Do you gravitate toward him? I find myself giddy just being by his side—content to have his arm around me. My greatest Christmas wish is for all women to have a BFH.

Contest

I started this blog a few months ago as a fun outlet for the many thoughts rolling in my mind. Perhaps I'm crazy, but as a writer we wish for validation and acceptance, and then as the world of publishing is changing, we need more than a publisher and their team of marketers, we need others to already know our name.  I thought this contest would be a snazzy way to capture people's attention to my writing, share my perspective or my drivel. 

How you can get your name in the drawing for a fun reward:
1.  Becoming a follower (two entries)
2.  Comment on my posts, only once per post (for a total of six more entries)
3.  Refer my blog to other friends.  Put a comment on the post A New Beginning with the names of friends you told about me.  If they become a follower, or comment on a post I will give you two entries per friend.

I will be awarding three prizes to three different individuals whose names will be drawn from a hat randomly by my own personal Vanna.  Increase your odds, join in the fun.  After all, it's nearly Christmas and who doesn't want a free gift.

The Reward: A crocheted flower ring from ToCreateOrNot’s Etsy shop.

  You can select from the available rings or request a custom one of your own color.  Have fun and good luck!  Contest ends midnight of Dec 3rd.

And the winners are: Susan, Emily and Becca.  Thanks to all her participated.  Come back and check on occasion.  I'll keep posting my thoughts and reviews, sharing part of my life with you.

Garden Plot Review

Garden Plot by Kristen McKendry ranks up there with the best I’ve read lately.  It captured me from the beginning until four hours later, dishes in the sink and chaos reigning around me.  That’s good!  McKendry has the ability to not only weave a mystery that only unfolds at the end, but develop great characters that are memorable.  From those who help at the Whole-Life Wellness Center to the ‘guests’ and to the suspects, which often were the same. 

Amidst the chaos a murder always provides, Erin Kilpatrick rises to the occasion and shows strength and bravado she easily denies.  It’s her drive to solve the mystery that instills her into my heart as one of my favorite character.  You’ll be pulled in waiting for Erin to ask pivotal questions and giving her a high five for the ones she surprises you with.  The extra delight happens as her churning mind pulls the unsuspecting detective assigned to the case into her wake.  The two together make an amazing team—imagine Maddie and David, or more recently Booth and Bones.  Do I hear a sequel?

Garden Plot is a delightful book and one I recommend to all readers.  As the tag on the front says—a mystery rooted in humor.  The perfect balance of sleuthing meets the challenges of real life.