Mother’s Day, a mammogram, and beeswax in my hair….

Tuesday, May 14

I had an absolutely fantastic time on Mother’s Day–Brother Jerry picked me up here at the house, and we drove north to fetch our Mom.  My daughter, Wendy, and her fiance, Jeremy, met us at the Onion, one of our favorite restaurants.  Mom and I were both pampered–and that’s the way we like it.  🙂  After lunch, Wendy and Jeremy and I made a quick stop at Michael’s (as if I needed more art supplies), and then they brought me home.
It was a great day–mostly because I have a great mom and a terrific daughter.
Sunday evening I was full of energy, so I decided to whip up a batch of soap–this time, our local AIDS network was the recipient–and since I’d picked up some candlemaking stuff at Michael’s, I decided to make a couple–beeswax–I absolutely ADORE the smell of the stuff.  Well, one of the candles turned out okay, but I’m not sure this is a good hobby for me.  🙂  Somehow, during the process, I managed to get wax in my hair.  How that could have happened is a mystery to me, although folks around here often marvel at the places they find tiny bits of soap.  What can I say?  I do everything with a flourish–I’m either all in or all out, but there’s no middle ground with me.
Monday, I intended to blog and tell you all about the Mom’s Day celebration, but I was scheduled for my annual mammogram, and by the time I’d been to the medical center, had the uncomfortable photos taken, and returned home–through a driving and fairly dismal rain–I was tuckered out.  The weather is better today, though still partially cloudy with a chance of meatballs ( 🙂 )  Changes like this wreak havoc on my knees–not much I can do besides take the recommended dose of Aleve and soak in the tub.  (Which is finished, thank heaven.)  I was getting spoiled by all that sunshine, I guess, and though I tried to be positive about the rain, I didn’t quite pull it off.  I wrote a few words on the book and then I pooped out.
The daffodils and tulips are pretty much gone, but things are growing out there in the greenhouse (near the barn) and Jeremy planted some of those wonderful, funky pumpkins–the ones that look as though they have warts–in piles of horse manure.  (With six horses, we have an ample and steady supply of the stuff.)   The sunflowers are certainly determined, and the lilacs are really blooming now.  The peonies have huge buds, and since they’re my favorites, I’m really looking forward to seeing them in all their brief but magnificent glory.  I’d have acres of the things, if I had the space–I’m that crazy about them.
The big Western Art Show in Ellensburg, Washington, is coming up this Saturday.  Wendy and I are traveling together–and we’re looking forward to hanging out with family–Brother Jerry, his wife Anna, and the kids, Jerome, Chyanne and Sydney, as well as getting a look at some lovely art and swapping howdies with some of you.
A big trip to New York follows, the 27th.  I always have fun on those expeditions, and deeply enjoy seeing my beloved editor, Joan, and my long-time and much-adored agent, Irene, along with various friends.  My publisher, Harlequin, treats me like royalty, which is always nice.  Occasionally, I catch a glimpse of a celebrity–rounded a corner one year, on my way back from a lunch break or something, and there sat Dog the bounty hunter and his wife, Beth.  There’s no mistaking those two, and I got an enormous kick out of seeing them, since I watched their TV show quite faithfully.  Loved how they would stand in a circle, hold hands, and pray–then head out to capture those bail-jumping so-and-so’s and kick their you-know-whats.  🙂  The irony of it all was great!  And, appropos of nothing, I think Beth has the prettiest complexion I’ve ever seen.  Lucky girl.   I wonder what kind of face cream she uses?  🙂
Well, I guess I’d better get back to Three Trees.  Things are poppin’!
 Be well, be kind, and be good to yourself.

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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