Greetings and salutations

Thursday, Apr 17

It’s been a long but satisfying day, full of brainstorming sessions for the new book, etc.  I also managed to play with my new paints–the Lumiere colors I mentioned recently arrived late yesterday, and I’ve been playing with them, on and off, ever since.  Oh, how I love the rich colors and the gentle shimmer of these paints–it’s as though I’m dipping by brush into a mixture of rainbow-fragments and sunshine, and actually painting with light.  Amazing, and it somehow feeds my spirit.
I’m listening to ANNE FRANK REMEMBERED, by Miep Gies (yes, THE Miep, who so bravely hid the Franks for 25 months, with help from a few friends) and a co-writer, Allison Leslie Gold.  I found this book on, and I am certainly enjoying it.  I’ve probably told you this before, but a few years ago, I visited the Frank house in Amsterdam, and it was a profound experience.  I actually climbed those fabled stairs, hidden behind a moveable bookcase, and explored the hideaway.  The most memorable part, for me, was seeing the tiny room where Anne slept.  The original wallpaper was still there, and so were the photos Anne had clipped from movie magazines (I used to do that, too, when I was very young) and pinned to her wall.  I’m sure we saw more–I was with my dear friend, Annie Kodak–but I really don’t remember much besides those pictures and, of course, the stairs.  It was chilling to imagine how frightened the Franks and those living with them (there were a total of 8 people, if I recall correctly) must have been when they heard the bookcase being thrust aside, followed by the pounding of boots on the steps and, no doubt, a lot of shouting.  How could such a thing happen?  I am still mystified.
The courage exhibited by Meip Gies and some 20,000 other Hollanders displayed by defying the Nazis is amazing.  (Meip herself was actually born in Austria; she was sent from Vienna to Amsterdam as a young and starving child and was informally adopted by a Dutch family who took very good care of her).  The book is well worth reading or listening to–I, for one, want very much to remember.
We are still getting plenty of flower-nourishing rain, and that’s okay with me.  Bring on the tulips!  The daffodils are already blooming, and their vibrant color delights my heart.  They surround my statue of St. Francis–patron saint of animals and birds, among other things–and have nearly hidden the colorful ‘toad-house’ I placed in the flowerbed last year.  I keep hoping a frog family will move in but, if they have, they’re keeping a very low profile.  🙂  The toad-house resembles a castle, with minarets, like St. Basil’s cathedral in Moscow–the one in Russia, not the one just across the Washington state line in Idaho.  🙂
My famous meditation pyramid hasn’t arrived yet, but I’ll be sure and blog about it when the time comes.  I have the perfect cushion, and I’m totally ready for a new experiment.  🙂
That’s the news from the Triple L, at least for today.  (I have a secret I’m bursting to tell you, but I have to keep it under my hat for just a little while longer.)
Be kind.

About Linda

The daughter of a town marshal, Linda Lael Miller is a #1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 100 historical and contemporary novels, most of which reflect her love of the West.

Raised in Northport, Washington, Linda pursued her wanderlust, living in London and Arizona and traveling the world before returning to the state of her birth to settle down on a horse property outside Spokane.

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