The power of love

Or...

It's not about the car.

I mean it is about the car, but it's not about the car.

I put this on my Facebook page, but if missed it, have a look.

Up to my proverbial eyeballs

Our house of 24 years is now officially up for sale! We're packing up and moving downtown, ready for new adventures. I've spent the past month purging, packing, scrubbing and cleaning the house to within an inch of its life in order to make it presentable. I haven't had much time for taking photos, or anything else for that matter. However, this weekend we all drove up to the lake, and spent some time reading and swimming and lounging about like giant slugs. I managed to haul my camera out of storage and snap a few shots of the flowers and odd bits around the cottage and it felt good to be back in the Nikon saddle again.

It's been brutally hot this year, so I missed the peonies, but even as they droop and drop their petals and twist into interesting shapes I think they're worth photographing. I know some prefer flowers that are in full bloom but there is something so poignant about a flower gently fading away. Not sure what that says about me and my time of life, but there it is.

You'll notice a photo of Kicia tucked away in there. She is curled up under a shrub, nestled in the cedar chips in our front garden at home. She prefers that spot over all others, despite the high heat and humidity, and will sleep there quite happily all day long. The fellow that put in our kitchen floor found her delightful as she stretched and slept, oblivious to everyone and everything outside. Odd little duck.(The cat, not the fellow who put in the floor who was quite nice and not odd at all.)

I noticed a lot of "noise" in the photos. I think that's because I had the ISO pumped up to 1600 but I'm not entirely sure that's the reason. Any photographers with more experience and know-how want to chime in and tell me why?

So, what are you doing today?

What you do today

 is important 

because 

you are exchanging

 a day of your life for it.

author unknown

The Taken, by Vicki Pettersson

The amazing Vicki Pettersson, author of the New York Times bestselling Signs of the Zodiac urban fantasy series, has done it again. The Taken is the first of the Celestial Blues series, and it's every bit as clever and smart and stylish as Vicki herself.

Vicki knows Vegas inside and out. She was raised there, lives there still and even worked as a Folies Bergère showgirl for ten years before becoming a full-time author. She can world build like nobody's business and her characters are so real and engaging that they sometimes brought me to tears. (Don't tell anyone. It's embarrassing to cry over fictional characters.)

I suggest you stop what you're doing and go buy yourself a copy right now. I was lucky enough to read this puppy when it was still a wee beta baby and I loved it. It's Rockabilly meets film noir in Las Vegas. If you like the dynamic of Spencer and Hepburn, you'll love this book. It sizzles as it propels you on a dark and dizzying ride to the hereafter, then it bitch-slaps you right back to reality.

But in a good way.

From Vicki:

Griffin Shaw used to be a PI, but that was back when gumshoes hoofed the streets . . . and he was still alive. Fifty years later, he’s a celestial Centurion, assisting the recently, and violently, dead. Yet just because he’s an angel doesn’t mean he’s a saint. One small mistake has altered fate, and now he’s been dumped back onto to the mortal mudflat to collect another soul—Katherine “Kit” Craig, a journalist whose latest investigation is about to get her clipped.

Bucking heavenly orders, Grif refuses to let this sable-haired siren with hairpin curves come to harm. Besides, protecting her offers a chance to find the truth about his own mysterious death — and wreak some vengeance for the murder of his beloved wife, Evie.

Joining forces, Kit and Grif’s search for answers leads beyond the blinding lights of the Strip into the dark heart of an evil conspiracy. But a ruthless killer determined to destroy them isn’t Griffin’s biggest threat. His growing attraction to Kit could cost them both their lives, as well as the answer to the greatest mystery of his long afterlife …

 Read the first three chapters for free HERE  or go to Vicki's website to read more reviews and find a bookseller HERE
 

May "Giddy Angels Spank Your Ass"

Go to Sera Beak for the Red Blessing.

Be thankful

I'm still in the process of cleaning out drawers and closets. I keep coming across endless scraps of paper, and newspaper clippings that once held meaning. Sometimes I'll come across a magazine and wonder why I kept it, even more puzzling when there are stickers marking a page. Did I really want that recipe for clam chutney? Do I still have a desire to decorate a bedroom in blue chintz?

But this little piece struck my fancy. I can't reference it, but I think it originated with Ann Landers.

Things to be Thankful For

Be thankful for the clothes that fit a little too snugly, 

because it means you have enough to eat.

Be thankful for the mess you clean up after a party, 

because it means you have been surrounded by friends.

Be thankful for the taxes you pay, 

because it means you're employed.

Be thankful that your lawn needs mowing 

and your windows need fixing, 

because it means you have a home.

Be thankful for your heating bill, 

because it means you are warm.

Be thankful for the luandry, 

because it means you have clothes to wear.

Be thankful for the space you find at the far end of the parking lot, 

because it means you can walk.

Be thankful for the lady who singes off-key behind you in church, 

because it means you can hear.

Be thankful when people complain about the government, 

because it means we have freedom of speech.

Be thankful for the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours, 

because it means you're alive.

My sister has another version of this poem. It's more succinct.  Would you like to hear it?

Ahem. 

Here goes:

No whining on the yacht.

They're both pretty good.