tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34176516942940923102024-03-16T05:43:08.551-04:00Get Lost in a StoryFor readers who love "getting lost" in a great book.Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.comBlogger2370125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-26641919619700075052022-07-15T10:49:00.042-04:002022-07-18T15:12:11.169-04:00E.E. Burke's Best of the West: My new release Lawless Hearts ends the Steam! series with a bang!<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZ2cphFETXXwGDwlYY51HyhtEC2eTEeI8dd-oxZpG8VlXDPA-XJr0iPnUI1jBEbHL6u7p9JiBeClVAATCKDF8jiDjvWQyiwbVpfpclUjTpOcwKzMZQGI3aCirAq65H7Y6VrwCdyOwfFN2um-PkBvrgOXyyOZpKmQ-IVGSe0JOm2kngEVhqkGvVV0LKw/s1900/LawlessHearts_Nook.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1900" data-original-width="1267" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZ2cphFETXXwGDwlYY51HyhtEC2eTEeI8dd-oxZpG8VlXDPA-XJr0iPnUI1jBEbHL6u7p9JiBeClVAATCKDF8jiDjvWQyiwbVpfpclUjTpOcwKzMZQGI3aCirAq65H7Y6VrwCdyOwfFN2um-PkBvrgOXyyOZpKmQ-IVGSe0JOm2kngEVhqkGvVV0LKw/w266-h400/LawlessHearts_Nook.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lawless-Hearts-Steam-novel-Romance-ebook/dp/B09WJXHPQ9" target="_blank">Now on Amazon</a><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><h2 style="text-align: left;"><b>The Pinkerton & the Outlaw</b></h2><p>In my new release, Lawless Hearts, a female Pinkerton detective and an Irish-Cherokee outlaw work together to find a missing agent and become entangled in a net of corruption, crime...and murder. It’s a tale of daring deception, pulse-pounding suspense, and sizzling romance, all in a Western setting that is as authentic as it is wild. </p><p>The entire series is rooted in historical events that follow the expansion of the railroad across the American West and features numerous secondary characters from the pages of history. For my heroine, I took inspiration from the history of the Pinkerton Agency and the country’s first female detective.</p><h2 style="text-align: left;">A woman who made history</h2><p>In 1856, a young 20-something woman named Kate Warne answered an advertisement for detectives posted by Allan Pinkerton to fill his fledgling agency. According to Pinkerton’s records, she convinced its progressive founder that women could be “most useful in worming out secrets in many places which would be impossible for a male detective.” Her arguments and determination impressed Pinkerton and he hired her over the objection of his brother Robert, who was also a partner in the business. Thus Warne became the first female private detective in the United States. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjku8XqoDhJCOt5BmrGtiAxiOGy_4HjhaoqEe8l0Ypz7HuDbh1PpoYmOOffzhdKAyzsIPQGunjkhidDEbCJFy2rI8tWSrAtzsEbklmPQOxRov6oFckgwefTS20lvFxlIuChNdSc5sJQE6wZK_49aSd786taUmQlS2SAlAeGrK1jqnBLm3_47aPvfPnxCQ/s842/Kate%20Warne.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="636" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjku8XqoDhJCOt5BmrGtiAxiOGy_4HjhaoqEe8l0Ypz7HuDbh1PpoYmOOffzhdKAyzsIPQGunjkhidDEbCJFy2rI8tWSrAtzsEbklmPQOxRov6oFckgwefTS20lvFxlIuChNdSc5sJQE6wZK_49aSd786taUmQlS2SAlAeGrK1jqnBLm3_47aPvfPnxCQ/s320/Kate%20Warne.png" width="242" /></a></div><p></p><p>Warne was an excellent private investigator and acted undercover, infiltrating social gatherings and events. During the Civil War, she was instrumental in saving Lincoln from the first assassination attempt. She wore disguises and changed her accent at will and became a huge asset for the agency. Later, Pinkerton hired other females and appointed Warne as Supervisor of Female Detectives. </p><h2 style="text-align: left;">Two opposites defy historical norms</h2><p>In <i>Lawless Hearts</i>, Brigit Stevens is modeled after the young female detectives mentored by Kate Warne. These were women who defied cultural norms and broke down societal barriers. In that sense, they were truly “lawless” in their pursuit of justice. </p><p>The outlaw Brigit chooses as a temporary partner is one of my favorite characters in this series. Over the course of three books, readers have seen him evolve into a complex, contradictory character whose conscience undergoes intense reconstruction. He isn’t the devil presented on the Wanted posters, but he doesn’t perceive himself as a hero. In fact, he’s confused when Brigit treats him like one. But her determination to reform him inspires Jasper to consider changing his ways. </p><p>After spending most of his life on the wrong side of the law, he takes Brigit up on her offer to join her on the right side. Unfortunately, there are some who have the law on their side and are using it for nefarious purposes, and they have Brigit and Jasper in the crosshairs.</p><p>Here's a short book trailer:</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NK6QN3m1hVk" width="433" youtube-src-id="NK6QN3m1hVk"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">🚂</p><p><b>Have you read the Steam! series? Do you have a favorite character? Who is it, and why? If not, who is your favorite literary detective?</b></p><p>If you haven’t read the series, you can get started with <i>Her Bodyguard</i> for free if you sign up now for my newsletter on my website:<a href="http://www.eeburke.com" target="_blank"> www.eeburke.com</a></p><p>As a special offer, I’ll also give away a copy of <i>Fugitive Hearts</i>, which sets the stage for <i>Lawless Hearts</i>. Leave a comment below and enter the Rafflecopter. I’ll draw a winner Friday.</p><script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6d2f860b275" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6d2f860b275/" id="rcwidget_z7qravcf" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-13953399955513067542022-02-08T01:00:00.003-05:002022-02-08T01:00:00.297-05:00Romancing Mark Twain with E.E. Burke<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9yHtwzOr2QUVYlGkZR7DnchvgNuNKhRhDr1h9IpxGtXKDRDgzntA8hNtwo0QQxIrMgMte32YhgA48uf6w98B7YvUKJ4ojPvrB6pCGL0mcDc44i58XDow_uhSixo6AtWCj3jDTCNZ6NnTHtqQjisdvOK4r7g_qLfVrIJKpY_O0pcWVijL_uonEZU8kFw=s940" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="940" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9yHtwzOr2QUVYlGkZR7DnchvgNuNKhRhDr1h9IpxGtXKDRDgzntA8hNtwo0QQxIrMgMte32YhgA48uf6w98B7YvUKJ4ojPvrB6pCGL0mcDc44i58XDow_uhSixo6AtWCj3jDTCNZ6NnTHtqQjisdvOK4r7g_qLfVrIJKpY_O0pcWVijL_uonEZU8kFw=w347-h291" width="347" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Livy and Sam </td></tr></tbody></table><br />The author Mark Twain is best remembered for his satire and his scathing observations about human nature. But there was another side to the man, Samuel Clemens--a romantic one. <p></p><p>At age 32, Sam returned from a successful trip abroad with a new friend, Charles Langdon, who invited Sam to an outing with his family. It was late December 1867 when Sam joined the Langdons at Steinway Hall in New York City to hear Charles Dickens read from David Copperfield. The reading didn’t impress Sam, but the young woman he met certainly did. He says of his official “first meeting” with Olivia Langdon: <i>“It made the fortune of my life--not in dollar, I am not thinking in dollars; it made the real fortune of my life in that it made the happiness of my life.”</i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">At first, happiness wasn’t certain. With typical spontaneity, Sam popped the question soon after the first date. Livy turned him down. Crushed, though not defeated, he penned a respectful, yet ardent, letter, the first of many in their two-year courtship. Here’s an excerpt from that letter, in which he claims to accept her refusal and addresses her as “honored sister.” </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>For once, at least, in the idle years that have drifted over me, I have seen the world all beautiful, & known what it was to hope. For once I have known what it was to feel my sluggish pulses stir with a living ambition. The world that was so beautiful, is dark again; the hope that shone as the sun, is gone; the brave ambition is dead. Yet I say again, it is better for me that I have loved & do love you; that with more than Eastern devotion I worship you; that I lay down all of my life that is worth the living, upon this hopeless altar where no fires of love shall descend to consume it. If you could but—</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">He goes on to profess friendship, but he more or less begs her to open her heart and give him a chance. She does, and after two years and many more letters, finally admits to loving him, but adds that she hopes it will pass!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Sam, undaunted, redoubles his efforts until his determination pays off. Triumphant, he writes to share the news in a letter to his friend, Joseph Twichell. Here's a brief excerpt:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Refused three times—warned to quit, once—accepted at last!—& beloved!—Great Caesar's Ghost, if there were a church in town with a steeple high enough to make an object of it, I would go out and & jump over it. And I persecuted her parents for 48 hours & at last they couldn’t stand the siege any longer & so they made a conditional surrender:—which is to say, if she makes up her mind thoroughly & eternally, & I prove that I have done nothing criminal or particularly shameful in the past, & establish a good character in the future & settle down, I may take the sun out of their domestic firmament, the angel out of their fireside heaven...</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Oh, no—there isn’t any persistence about me—certainly not. But I am so happy I want to scalp somebody.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNXle559cE6fLlFSPxa9IvPrx3WZwzoCkW9e1qOq5ZJdF46TRbGYaev-7aGC6q_BFjzK61mtNNhHH-E7L75GryaWEArr13htnzJu-U6Bv0_Oa00_F2opOe9HO2U7lXpIX32efedaaTGSxqKzaDg92gRq0CGNavaal1VxcDv0MqpkB1ObR88LAry2nNkg=s1056" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1056" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNXle559cE6fLlFSPxa9IvPrx3WZwzoCkW9e1qOq5ZJdF46TRbGYaev-7aGC6q_BFjzK61mtNNhHH-E7L75GryaWEArr13htnzJu-U6Bv0_Oa00_F2opOe9HO2U7lXpIX32efedaaTGSxqKzaDg92gRq0CGNavaal1VxcDv0MqpkB1ObR88LAry2nNkg=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark Twain House, Hartford CT</td></tr></tbody></table>Sam and Livy spent their happiest years in their romantic home in Hartford, CT. Four years into marriage, Sam pens an endearing letter to his wife from London that ends with him imagining his return. <i>I love to write about arriving—it seems as if it were to be tomorrow. And I love to picture myself ringing the bell, at midnight—then a pause of a second or two—then the turning of the bolt, & “Who is it?”—then ever so many kisses—then you & I in the bath-room, I drinking my cock-tail & undressing, & you standing by—then to bed, and — —everything happy & jolly as it should be. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>I do love & honor you, my darling.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Saml.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Photos and letters courtesy of the Mark Twain House and Museum. Home photos by John Groo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">💖💖💖💖💖</div><h2 style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1JNmdALilHOke68OUy3H9IwDPOmv8AV0H03-mU5tLiogyBd-Kg59NzqDdlKWGBBCUov4acCxXr6ZFycLFChWMxiu4FsPpp2APEuV8iPvyTJd-ojU2lgzGpV9dYYpbW_f1HE1WKy4FW4zRhG3rP0zoXbrgPFTWgDogK9W6VLaVN_ciWTcGtMkKd2OceA=s3088" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1JNmdALilHOke68OUy3H9IwDPOmv8AV0H03-mU5tLiogyBd-Kg59NzqDdlKWGBBCUov4acCxXr6ZFycLFChWMxiu4FsPpp2APEuV8iPvyTJd-ojU2lgzGpV9dYYpbW_f1HE1WKy4FW4zRhG3rP0zoXbrgPFTWgDogK9W6VLaVN_ciWTcGtMkKd2OceA=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A "shelfie" with Mark and me </td></tr></tbody></table>Be my guest at Romancing Mark Twain</h2><div><div>Join me for an exclusive <b><a href="https://marktwainhouse.org/event/romancing-mark-twain-tom-sawyer-returns-and-taming-huck-finn-with-e-e-burke/" target="_blank">online Valentine's event</a> Feb. 15, at 7 p.m. Eastern.</b> I'll be appearing with Rebecca Floyd, the Director of Interpretation at the Mark Twain House & Museum in Hartford, Conn., to talk about how Mark Twain inspired me to write love stories featuring his beloved characters. You'll also hear more about the true love story between Sam and Livy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Through the technological wonder of Crowdcast, you can join us for this LIVE online discussion from the comfort of your home. Watch the program online, and, if you’d like, participate in the Q&A.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><a href="https://ci.ovationtix.com/35359/performance/10935498?performanceId=10935498" target="_blank">FREE digital tickets</a></b> are waiting for you to claim them. All you have to do is sign up at the Mark Twain House & Museum's <a href="https://ci.ovationtix.com/35359/performance/10935498?performanceId=10935498" target="_blank">online event page</a>. Select 1 "digital connection" to order your front row seat. Don't worry, you will not be charged. If you wish to make a donation to this worthy institution, you can do so, though it is not required. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope you'll be there on the evening of Feb. 15 at 7 p.m. EST. (6 p.m. Central Time). </div><div><br /></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi98RezzpoP4pLy225YOfu6ETE1M3uSi1nerl-rKHJcvsKqKepPfKMhzSH5VOAbH0RiksGuQVSlK0toVPIbdyeNa_rZKncbD_W_CfB7tiZqOUiEU6wgG3EkwR8sxQuiqOittk60Mwc4H6hav4HZ9qSHLgwH7BZ00HVKRLPB4ne7C66tcRXTEFoOO5LIvQ=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi98RezzpoP4pLy225YOfu6ETE1M3uSi1nerl-rKHJcvsKqKepPfKMhzSH5VOAbH0RiksGuQVSlK0toVPIbdyeNa_rZKncbD_W_CfB7tiZqOUiEU6wgG3EkwR8sxQuiqOittk60Mwc4H6hav4HZ9qSHLgwH7BZ00HVKRLPB4ne7C66tcRXTEFoOO5LIvQ=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Have you read one or both of my New Adventures books? If so, I'd love to hear what you thought about these "grown up" characters. If not, tell me which character--Tom or Huck--you think would be your favorite. </div><div><br /></div><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Happy Valentine's Day! </span></h2><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><p><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-2885563086312918192021-12-17T04:00:00.182-05:002021-12-17T04:00:00.274-05:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in December<p><span style="font-size: medium;">In December the flowers in Victoria are scarce, but the Geraniums in my small garden (on the balcony of the condo where I lived for 12 years before moving in May of this year) kept blooming and cheering up my days. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Most of the time my Geraniums were like a jungle. The plants grew wild. Many of them were from my mom, given to me as cuttings from her plants—many years before she passed away. Those plants had a history and held memories. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I go for many lovely walks around my neighborhood to see and photograph many amazing flowers, but it's good to have some special-just-to-me flowers close by. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Here are some of the photos I've taken of my Geraniums throughout the years. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGUTvUO6bWc/X_xEiG7QURI/AAAAAAAADWo/4_aipMMapKIlC5ehcY2cEpYDDnBcFOddwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190222_123008.jpg"><img alt="Red Geraniums on my balcony" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGUTvUO6bWc/X_xEiG7QURI/AAAAAAAADWo/4_aipMMapKIlC5ehcY2cEpYDDnBcFOddwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190222_123008.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WRXdgdurKFQ/X_xEiPL7YkI/AAAAAAAADWg/9Cy37EwrQts3mKjnnhC6OEK8B9KUQHfDQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190920_075514.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink Geraniums on my balcony" border="0" data-original-height="1123" data-original-width="2048" height="219" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WRXdgdurKFQ/X_xEiPL7YkI/AAAAAAAADWg/9Cy37EwrQts3mKjnnhC6OEK8B9KUQHfDQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h219/20190920_075514.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pcNSPN2br2U/X_xROUZxpAI/AAAAAAAADXE/CTT_dsp6dGEgVseJc-PrPhTQK4LfTLTHACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200522_104155.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="White and orange Geraniums on my balcony" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pcNSPN2br2U/X_xROUZxpAI/AAAAAAAADXE/CTT_dsp6dGEgVseJc-PrPhTQK4LfTLTHACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200522_104155.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mo3-ib16zZg/X_xRO5MIxEI/AAAAAAAADXI/WbhDGql80nAeFb9hykWZ_PN7ykI5wiiMACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200522_105554.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Red, orange, and white Geraniums on my balcony" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mo3-ib16zZg/X_xRO5MIxEI/AAAAAAAADXI/WbhDGql80nAeFb9hykWZ_PN7ykI5wiiMACLcBGAsYHQ/w225-h400/20200522_105554.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGCNE7sADDY/X_xROashehI/AAAAAAAADW8/Bjfr3qu1qVIdchCHUhKJDLf_G-8xU8ImwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1719/20200522_104234%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Martha Washington Geraniums on my balcony" border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1719" height="268" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGCNE7sADDY/X_xROashehI/AAAAAAAADW8/Bjfr3qu1qVIdchCHUhKJDLf_G-8xU8ImwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h268/20200522_104234%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-THLx0Sx2fEs/X_xROfVgGrI/AAAAAAAADXA/r5EbZd2iMCoNQAcCsnhcYCZ7MaxB57LlgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200522_105542%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink Geraniums on my balcony" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-THLx0Sx2fEs/X_xROfVgGrI/AAAAAAAADXA/r5EbZd2iMCoNQAcCsnhcYCZ7MaxB57LlgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200522_105542%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/11/jacquis-friday-flowers-in-november.html" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see my November blog post and a rainbow of Rose pics </span></span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">🌹</span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">🌈</span></span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span>Victoria, Canada -- or during the year-round Geranium season on my balcony), visit my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> pages. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a> </div></div>Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-45630747974364656142021-11-19T04:00:00.134-05:002021-11-19T04:00:00.280-05:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in November<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Where I live in Victoria, Canada, the roses bloom mostly from May to October, but they can be seen in November as well. A few tenacious buds are even seen all year round. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My favorite color is the multi-colored orange, yellow, pink, and scarlet Joseph's or Jacob's Coat rose. I love the rich color combination, but I also love that it was my mom's favorite as well. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Below are the roses I've taken photos of in my neighborhood. The first photo is I think either a Joseph's or Jacob's Coat rose. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tblf-oLqngA/X_wKrrK3yKI/AAAAAAAADNo/ntVy60YlnvkwSOZO7Bi4vBxEWkejW57PACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190602_122630-shared%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Joseph's or Jacob's Coat roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tblf-oLqngA/X_wKrrK3yKI/AAAAAAAADNo/ntVy60YlnvkwSOZO7Bi4vBxEWkejW57PACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190602_122630-shared%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Joseph's or Jacob's Coat roses</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2VI6drDcBa0/X_wXmTKXOqI/AAAAAAAADP4/d6xnl9_W4q4cdzZP24I2snqquEMvTkdawCLcBGAsYHQ/s1981/20200627_171646%2B%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1981" height="233" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2VI6drDcBa0/X_wXmTKXOqI/AAAAAAAADP4/d6xnl9_W4q4cdzZP24I2snqquEMvTkdawCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h233/20200627_171646%2B%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ywhex8tmGwk/X_wXmaPf5FI/AAAAAAAADP8/9SjiFiWt6rEOTE6A9jaY4w4iWrf30kiWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200627_171814%2BIN.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Magenta roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ywhex8tmGwk/X_wXmaPf5FI/AAAAAAAADP8/9SjiFiWt6rEOTE6A9jaY4w4iWrf30kiWgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200627_171814%2BIN.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--guXUvVgags/X_wXnLVNT8I/AAAAAAAADQE/H6blS3YDM4oaf6_1Xjmk2sLUgih52hV7ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1815/20200712_130445%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pale yellow roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1815" height="254" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--guXUvVgags/X_wXnLVNT8I/AAAAAAAADQE/H6blS3YDM4oaf6_1Xjmk2sLUgih52hV7ACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h254/20200712_130445%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJMPECqCk0A/X_wXngTH8aI/AAAAAAAADQI/KapLMPoEL6IDgAzOu2SCcvbsY-r2TxDogCLcBGAsYHQ/s1914/20200712_130521%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink and white roses" border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="1914" height="235" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJMPECqCk0A/X_wXngTH8aI/AAAAAAAADQI/KapLMPoEL6IDgAzOu2SCcvbsY-r2TxDogCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h235/20200712_130521%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CLxcQbtD6k/X_wXoCpaPWI/AAAAAAAADQM/qscnh0EX_0w3ypV5EOF4473bBCzhk7QuQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200727_091809%2BIN.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CLxcQbtD6k/X_wXoCpaPWI/AAAAAAAADQM/qscnh0EX_0w3ypV5EOF4473bBCzhk7QuQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200727_091809%2BIN.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-P7lMAjeWZFA/YWtUaE3RRjI/AAAAAAAADsI/K25dKMkF90wFFfJfBfZAKoieY2a3wl7zACLcBGAsYHQ/20210702_104103%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink and white patterned rose" data-original-height="1622" data-original-width="2048" height="317" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-P7lMAjeWZFA/YWtUaE3RRjI/AAAAAAAADsI/K25dKMkF90wFFfJfBfZAKoieY2a3wl7zACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h317/20210702_104103%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-85zE-lzK15g/YWtUXjFWhRI/AAAAAAAADsE/ZGCq3XFP0EoEqS6o8072La_QpcGN0RRzQCLcBGAsYHQ/20210706_151325%2Bcrop%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Red rose" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="2048" height="348" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-85zE-lzK15g/YWtUXjFWhRI/AAAAAAAADsE/ZGCq3XFP0EoEqS6o8072La_QpcGN0RRzQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h348/20210706_151325%2Bcrop%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ejCx2AL3r0A/X_wXohzaSYI/AAAAAAAADQQ/GpHaowQ-9KMkwHJzmgIYolIh2YDypW5ygCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200801_153119%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ejCx2AL3r0A/X_wXohzaSYI/AAAAAAAADQQ/GpHaowQ-9KMkwHJzmgIYolIh2YDypW5ygCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200801_153119%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iGj0i2wfYkU/X_wXmYpykRI/AAAAAAAADQA/xvc98n7K0ckAKGeSY0EwT99nKHr_19mUACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200627_171756%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Roses" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iGj0i2wfYkU/X_wXmYpykRI/AAAAAAAADQA/xvc98n7K0ckAKGeSY0EwT99nKHr_19mUACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200627_171756%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PZpO8GfTU_E/X_w0v6rgWfI/AAAAAAAADU8/Ugg1E8QlFmEShaKa2_Gh3qglLhlxroq9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190624_112724%2Bshared%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Roses in front of Victoria's Parliament Buildings" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PZpO8GfTU_E/X_w0v6rgWfI/AAAAAAAADU8/Ugg1E8QlFmEShaKa2_Gh3qglLhlxroq9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190624_112724%2Bshared%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roses in front of Victoria's Parliament Buildings</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MAeMkeWdJiA/YWtT-8KVDoI/AAAAAAAADr8/G-X6HiL_ZN0SRTqGi5Antkx4NRUDAPpmQCLcBGAsYHQ/20210706_151538%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Roses behind Victoria's Parliament Buildings" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MAeMkeWdJiA/YWtT-8KVDoI/AAAAAAAADr8/G-X6HiL_ZN0SRTqGi5Antkx4NRUDAPpmQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20210706_151538%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roses behind Victoria's Parliament Buildings</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/01/jacqui-nelson-friday-flowers-in-october.html" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see my October blog post and a deluge of Dahlia pics 🙂</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">🌼</span></span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;">To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Victoria, </span><span style="font-size: large;">Canada), </span><span style="font-size: large;">visit my </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">Facebook</a><span style="font-size: large;"> and </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">Instagram</a><span style="font-size: large;"> pages. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a> </div></div>Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-74943162324757740742021-10-29T01:00:00.028-04:002021-10-29T01:00:00.294-04:00Halloween Special: Death Rituals in the Old West<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cpvjmMYs4E0/YPmgJJrarNI/AAAAAAAAHws/bLbhlQAlyT46CtYHb9hfU3_MOZJNLuwaACLcBGAsYHQ/s794/death%2Broom.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="794" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cpvjmMYs4E0/YPmgJJrarNI/AAAAAAAAHws/bLbhlQAlyT46CtYHb9hfU3_MOZJNLuwaACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/death%2Broom.png" width="320" /></a></div>For my novel <i><b><a href="http://books2read.com/u/38DrAa" target="_blank">Fugitive Hearts</a></b></i>, I had to research the subject of death and mourning rituals during the 19th century. I found the history and superstitions fascinating and thought you might, too. Read on to find out more.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>When Mourning became an industry</b></div><div><br /></div><div>After Prince Albert died in 1861 and the Queen of England set a new standard for bereavement, society on both sides of the Atlantic took on mourning with a vengeance. That same year, the American Civil War began, and death on a massive scale touched communities and families north and south. Mourning became a central fact of wartime life. After the war, death continued to be ritualized. During an age when there were customs for every aspect of life, there were also elaborate rituals to observe after death—starting with what to wear.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vL3Bt8bMGNk/YPmga45ep-I/AAAAAAAAHxE/iAedP60uUzIAzKcR4R1aFGFvBMljS_-TwCLcBGAsYHQ/s522/ad%2Bfor%2Bmourning.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="514" height="241" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vL3Bt8bMGNk/YPmga45ep-I/AAAAAAAAHxE/iAedP60uUzIAzKcR4R1aFGFvBMljS_-TwCLcBGAsYHQ/w237-h241/ad%2Bfor%2Bmourning.png" width="237" /></a></div><br />Social decorum demanded that family members adjust their behavior and clothing for six months to a year after the death of a close relative. All clothing, even underwear and accessories like gloves and handkerchiefs, had to be black. Thus, mourning attire became a society-wide necessity. Catalogs and stores advertised them. In fact, mourning apparel became the first type of clothing to be purchased "off the rack." </div><div><br /></div><div>At home, a wreath of laurel, yew or boxwood tied with crepe or black ribbons hung on the front door to alert passersby that a death had occurred. Black crepe covered windows, mirrors, and pictures. Guests coming by to pay respects would be greeted by mourners and served “funeral biscuits” – small cakes wrapped in white paper sealed with black sealing wax. </div><div><br /></div><div>The parlor was called the “death room” when a coffin was on display. The body of the deceased was watched over every minute until burial, hence the custom of “waking.” The wake also served as a safeguard from burying someone who might not happen to be dead. </div><div><br /></div><div>And those weren't the most unusual rituals...</div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hB4ziVpkxYA/YPmgtCgP9YI/AAAAAAAAHxM/umbphETIa1Yr4M-PWJM-OS9HvH0JJgUPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s748/hair%2Bbrooch.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="748" data-original-width="642" height="224" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hB4ziVpkxYA/YPmgtCgP9YI/AAAAAAAAHxM/umbphETIa1Yr4M-PWJM-OS9HvH0JJgUPwCLcBGAsYHQ/w192-h224/hair%2Bbrooch.png" width="192" /></a></div><br /><b>Hair Memorabilia</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Jewelry and art made from the hair of loved ones became all the rage during this era when mourning was elevated to an art form. </div><div><br /></div><div>Everything from brooches to watch fobs to elaborate works of art was made from human hair. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Locally, in Kansas City, Leila's hair museum features thousands of examples of this custom, which reached its zenith in the Victorian era. It's truly amazing...and more than little bizarre. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>Memento Mori</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Another grim custom was photographs of the dead. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q3RRa-OBrkc/YPmin5YctRI/AAAAAAAAHxU/0gJKdRoQUHMTjIxeSkndyuA6qN4Uu3c-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s730/post%2Bmortem%2Bchild.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="698" height="267" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q3RRa-OBrkc/YPmin5YctRI/AAAAAAAAHxU/0gJKdRoQUHMTjIxeSkndyuA6qN4Uu3c-ACLcBGAsYHQ/w255-h267/post%2Bmortem%2Bchild.png" width="255" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>These images were marketed as treasured mementoes. One can understand why when you consider how photography was just getting started as a business and getting photographs made was expensive. The death photo--<i>or memento mori</i>--might be the only image they had of their loved one. </div><div><br /></div><div>In many cases, the photograph was "staged" -- that is, the child is featured with living siblings and family members or with beloved dolls and toys. </div><div><br /></div><div>In some cases, they used elaborate systems to prop up the dead person, then painted eyes on the image to make it look as if they are still alive. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JiLtIkZ9ol0/YPmjxcgGasI/AAAAAAAAHxc/HQ7PgMQhQ_EKDCNlB2bWLiC8AtrxDV6DwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1140/mourning%2Bpins.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="830" height="269" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JiLtIkZ9ol0/YPmjxcgGasI/AAAAAAAAHxc/HQ7PgMQhQ_EKDCNlB2bWLiC8AtrxDV6DwCLcBGAsYHQ/w196-h269/mourning%2Bpins.png" width="196" /></a></div><br /></div><div><div><b>Mourning merchandise</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Less creepy, but just as strange is the industry of mourning merchandise. </div><div><br /></div><div>Shrewd companies sold everything from buttons to pins that were used during the official mourning period. Everything had to be black and couldn't be shiny (until later in the mourning period)</div></div><div><br /></div><div>In fact, mourning became such a big money-maker, people went into the business of becoming "professional mourners." </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess if your acting career didn't take off on the stage, you could always show up at funerals.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-22eoU0iLCgI/YPmljK0SKiI/AAAAAAAAHxk/PEqhQKXCmlwI4in5OG8XXqZSyttZ5Y8ewCLcBGAsYHQ/s514/civil%2Bwar%2Btear%2Bcatcher.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="514" height="243" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-22eoU0iLCgI/YPmljK0SKiI/AAAAAAAAHxk/PEqhQKXCmlwI4in5OG8XXqZSyttZ5Y8ewCLcBGAsYHQ/w258-h243/civil%2Bwar%2Btear%2Bcatcher.png" width="258" /></a></div><div><b>Tear Catchers</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Made popular during the Civil War, this item was generally worn on a chain. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lachrymatories (as they were called) were usually made from decorative glass vials about an inch or two long with a stopper at one end. </div><div><br /></div><div>A woman whose beau or husband was off at war would "store" her tears in it. If he returned, she could empty it. If he didn't, she would display it as a demonstration of her continued devotion.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q7EgRAPITA4/YPmls2CmCUI/AAAAAAAAHxo/UBUNxbuM5ekVxWtvUlCF3wDhWU14Xz6NgCLcBGAsYHQ/s440/coffin%2Balarm.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="326" data-original-width="440" height="172" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q7EgRAPITA4/YPmls2CmCUI/AAAAAAAAHxo/UBUNxbuM5ekVxWtvUlCF3wDhWU14Xz6NgCLcBGAsYHQ/w232-h172/coffin%2Balarm.png" width="232" /></a></div></div><div><b>Coffin Alarms</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Another curious and widespread concern in the nineteenth century was the fear of being buried alive. Even Mary Todd Lincoln, a relatively well-to-do, well-educated woman, shared in her final instructions: "I desire that my body shall remain for two days with the lid not screwed down.'"</div><div><br /></div><div>The fear of a loved one being buried alive inspired coffin makers to design warning systems such as a bell on the grave which was connected by a chain to the inside of the coffin in cases of premature burial. Thus the expression: “Saved by the bell.”</div><div><br /></div><div>You'll find some of these customs featured in my book <b><i><a href="http://books2read.com/u/38DrAa" target="_blank">Fugitive Hearts</a></i></b>, Book 4 in the series, <i>Steam! Romance and Rails</i></div><div><br /></div><div><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ya4Zcxb3vxY/YPmmfVu_dOI/AAAAAAAAHx0/LLiOcwD15sURCfPi-RilhkR7OfRYX3BiwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1900/FugitiveHearts_Nook.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1900" data-original-width="1267" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ya4Zcxb3vxY/YPmmfVu_dOI/AAAAAAAAHx0/LLiOcwD15sURCfPi-RilhkR7OfRYX3BiwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/FugitiveHearts_Nook.jpg" /></a></div><br />Is she a grieving widow or a heartless killer?</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Everyone in Parsons, Kansas, considers hotel owner Claire Daines a respectable, decent woman. Until she shocks the entire town when she rushes into a saloon in her nightclothes to confess to an inebriated lawman. “Sheriff, I shot my husband.”</div><div><br /></div><div>Is it an accident, as she claims? Or is it murder? As Sheriff Frank Garrity unravels the widow’s subterfuge, the truth will challenge his notions about law and justice and force him to make a choice between desire and duty. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>This passionate Western romance follows a suspenseful chase along the historic Katy Railway, where a skeptical lawman learns an unexpected truth and a lesson about love.</i></div></div><div><br /></div></div><div><h2 class="bodyTitle" id="bodyH2-18" style="background-color: white; direction: ltr; line-height: 27px; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><a href="http://books2read.com/u/38DrAa" target="_blank">Start reading Fugitive Hearts today!</a></h2><div><br /></div></div><div>MORE ABOUT STEAM! ROMANCE AND RAILS</div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='414' height='272' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzx8Yo2splIE-QyK2_JJYQzGr1MM5MXUbzdRg2lzvi-aEI_jo8vvwkuguX1bVCv8ucztV-QUeW-i5b0fRcPlA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Sign up for my newsletter and get started on the series FREE. New subscribers receive a copy of Her Bodyguard, Book 1. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://eeburke.com/newsletter" target="_blank">Sign me up for my FREE book.</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-61082966092241965752021-10-15T04:00:00.100-04:002021-10-15T04:00:00.246-04:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in October<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Last year I became a huge fan of Dahlias. Not sure why this flower wasn't on my radar before, but now that glitch in my flower-lover brain has been fixed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Not only are Dahlias beautiful flowers, but I really appreciate them blooming not only in late summer but in October when the weather on Canada's pacific coast is headed toward the winter rainy/gloomy season. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Most of the Dahlia photos that I took (and the ones I've included below) were from Victoria's Government House Gardens or Beacon Hill Park, but a few (like the last two) were incredible finds on or near city streets. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JDXjM8_CBe4/X_wdcVt4tMI/AAAAAAAADRE/yDzFZFX-qGQKAXDC14BPDZCCLUhCxehswCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200808_130556%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JDXjM8_CBe4/X_wdcVt4tMI/AAAAAAAADRE/yDzFZFX-qGQKAXDC14BPDZCCLUhCxehswCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200808_130556%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FK3ksdoRpF0/X_wdayLHBRI/AAAAAAAADQ4/J2ZJPQO_CU4NUy2DBLvp_u3c2uTOOFbrQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200727_092203%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FK3ksdoRpF0/X_wdayLHBRI/AAAAAAAADQ4/J2ZJPQO_CU4NUy2DBLvp_u3c2uTOOFbrQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200727_092203%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j_2XOXGVZqE/X_wda0kmvuI/AAAAAAAADQ0/Lh96cGBkHBMGltOUIGYhsYJxSRqOy7l2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1482/20200727_092020%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1093" data-original-width="1482" height="295" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j_2XOXGVZqE/X_wda0kmvuI/AAAAAAAADQ0/Lh96cGBkHBMGltOUIGYhsYJxSRqOy7l2gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h295/20200727_092020%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzxNVTGTa5E/X_wda_PZ39I/AAAAAAAADQw/uWrZBnH4Y4kI96HxwwbM5GO5o62CEInJgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1976/20200808_125728%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="999" data-original-width="1976" height="203" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzxNVTGTa5E/X_wda_PZ39I/AAAAAAAADQw/uWrZBnH4Y4kI96HxwwbM5GO5o62CEInJgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h203/20200808_125728%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ls8xYX6qMZ8/X_wdbRXMrzI/AAAAAAAADQ8/cSaPpGAK8UkUFKssy0t0DIbHBZ7IaJStwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200808_130108%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ls8xYX6qMZ8/X_wdbRXMrzI/AAAAAAAADQ8/cSaPpGAK8UkUFKssy0t0DIbHBZ7IaJStwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200808_130108%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P5ofrac-TcU/X_wdbzs6oII/AAAAAAAADRA/jaok21ZC-qoHsVwBDqg8ouy6xiWdMD0YgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1807/20200808_130429%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1807" height="255" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P5ofrac-TcU/X_wdbzs6oII/AAAAAAAADRA/jaok21ZC-qoHsVwBDqg8ouy6xiWdMD0YgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h255/20200808_130429%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cwBvrjg9-RE/X_wdc6cs-tI/AAAAAAAADRI/SUqcSVPRE-IK5MtQTtaHBwODmcQm067ewCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200818_083217%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cwBvrjg9-RE/X_wdc6cs-tI/AAAAAAAADRI/SUqcSVPRE-IK5MtQTtaHBwODmcQm067ewCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200818_083217%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7RCDocAcIzU/X_wddLdXbPI/AAAAAAAADRM/ncB6xyJN6s8x8NtmPnsorAJty_V8CWLAACLcBGAsYHQ/s1781/20200903_113356%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1112" data-original-width="1781" height="250" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7RCDocAcIzU/X_wddLdXbPI/AAAAAAAADRM/ncB6xyJN6s8x8NtmPnsorAJty_V8CWLAACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h250/20200903_113356%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KG70mRtEi9g/X_wdd95aMqI/AAAAAAAADRQ/3R4EVkBc8Cg1sOsDgGl1yb1yQpIbKd-jQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1830/20201015_151801%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dahlias" border="0" data-original-height="1103" data-original-width="1830" height="241" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KG70mRtEi9g/X_wdd95aMqI/AAAAAAAADRQ/3R4EVkBc8Cg1sOsDgGl1yb1yQpIbKd-jQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h241/20201015_151801%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="text-align: left;"><span><a href="https://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/01/jacqui-nelson-friday-flowers-in-september .html" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see my September blog post and a hefty stack of Hydrangea pics </span></span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span>🙂</span></span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span><span>Victoria, Canada), visit my </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a><span> and </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a><span> pages. </span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a> </div></div>Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-63603593529266040542021-10-01T01:00:00.361-04:002021-10-01T01:00:00.445-04:00HANDS<p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><b><i><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"> what story do yours tell?</span></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWiiZYHsrpU/X-f_jnBqUAI/AAAAAAAAdLY/i2QFDvDkyvIbaHTF_cyZmBn4xb3w03GEACPcBGAYYCw/s1336/11%2BHands.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWiiZYHsrpU/X-f_jnBqUAI/AAAAAAAAdLY/i2QFDvDkyvIbaHTF_cyZmBn4xb3w03GEACPcBGAYYCw/w640-h334/11%2BHands.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="640" /></a></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Our hands work for us in many ways. Sometimes they're our voice. Sometimes they express more emotion than we can say aloud. Sometimes they share through touch. I notice people's hands. I love how they are decorated, how they're unique, but especially what they do. More than anything, I hope others find mine as helpful and friendly. What story do your hands tell? Is it a story you're satisfied with, or remembering, or are you in the middle of creating something new?</span></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--V84U4ncJfk/X-f_jLzT-1I/AAAAAAAAdLU/zM5WFdsVJ_sYA5DBXknST_omTeTpXcQVACPcBGAYYCw/w400-h209/11%2BHands-Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="400" /></div><h3 style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Angi</span></h3><div style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My husband and I travel and always stop for sunsets. We've got thousands of pictures of them and still aren't tired of seeing another. In fact, we have an entire wall (during the fall) of sunset pictures we've taken. My hands have shared a beer with the ones I love in many places. I hope the story they tell is that I stopped and appreciated the things and people around me.</span></div><div style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6NaWDJDV3I/X-kL34R3_2I/AAAAAAAAdOc/9ixw09Na6UcT_ImZtr0aDx-IX6OvCuWQACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/10%2BHands--Jacqui%2BCoffee.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6NaWDJDV3I/X-kL34R3_2I/AAAAAAAAdOc/9ixw09Na6UcT_ImZtr0aDx-IX6OvCuWQACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h209/10%2BHands--Jacqui%2BCoffee.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><h3 style="margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Jacqui</span></h3><div style="margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Coffee
gets me moving and makes me stop as well. Get out of bed, make coffee—then
settle down at my desk and write. Visit family or friends—and sit with a cup of
coffee to talk. Walk to a coffee shop to meet an author friend—and then (with
the buzz of the other coffee lovers around us) sit down with our coffees to
write and talk about what we wrote or planned to write next. Since the COVID-19 pandemic started, I haven't been to a coffee shop to write with a friend, but I'm hoping to get back to doing this in 2022. Fingers crossed :) </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">The world’s pace seems so hectic that the
opportunity to have a getaway where I stop and hold a cup of coffee—and focus
on someone’s words or my own—is an opportunity I love seizing. ~ Jacqui </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--DguGEDX5yU/X-kNO_24enI/AAAAAAAAdOs/GRGWDbSoFhwehzF1Um1x11NvbCWOwpApgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/10%2BHands--CH%2B%2BDirt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--DguGEDX5yU/X-kNO_24enI/AAAAAAAAdOs/GRGWDbSoFhwehzF1Um1x11NvbCWOwpApgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h209/10%2BHands--CH%2B%2BDirt.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: left;"><h3 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">C.H.</span></h3><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The
moment I saw the above picture, I thought of my Heavenly Hubby! DJ and I were
always digging in our yard to build things: flower gardens, veggie gardens,
playhouse for the kids, motorcycle shed (for the 5 motorcycles the men in my
life have,) the wisteria arbor, drainage, a patio...the list is huge since we
bought our home in 1982. DJ and I never minded getting our hands dirty. We always had
the same reaction driving past a field that had just been plowed--we'd take a
deep breath loving the smell of the fresh-turned earth. One of the first things I
noticed about DJ the day we met--aside from his broad shoulders, bright green
eyes, and crooked smile, was his hands. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LfufoR-NDcY/YS0bPtnKISI/AAAAAAAAInw/ogcdEgyOc2oudiSdJ4ydSTK-MhDrpryxACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/DSCN8263.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LfufoR-NDcY/YS0bPtnKISI/AAAAAAAAInw/ogcdEgyOc2oudiSdJ4ydSTK-MhDrpryxACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/DSCN8263.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2bBTrqyG-Cs/YS0a5Kydo_I/AAAAAAAAIno/dMt6U4kswoMev69xpZGFEhsJizaT4-mwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/front%2Bof%2Bone%2Bof%2Bmy%2Bart%2Bsketch%2Bpads%2Bfrom%2BHS%2B%252775.JPG" style="font-size: 13.5pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="237" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2bBTrqyG-Cs/YS0a5Kydo_I/AAAAAAAAIno/dMt6U4kswoMev69xpZGFEhsJizaT4-mwgCLcBGAsYHQ/w177-h237/front%2Bof%2Bone%2Bof%2Bmy%2Bart%2Bsketch%2Bpads%2Bfrom%2BHS%2B%252775.JPG" width="177" /></a></div></div><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I
sketched DJ's hands for art homework back in '75, and he patiently
sat at my folks' kitchen table while I concentrated and tried to do justice to
the beauty I saw there. Even at 17 years old, I sensed the strength in
them. During our lives together, our children and I depended upon that strength, and he gave it lovingly without question until eleven months ago, when the good Lord called him home. He's waiting for me, and I look forward to grabbing hold of his hands and never letting go.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: left;"><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><h3 style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Amanda</span></h3><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2HoTPDKadjQ/YSrPuenjK5I/AAAAAAAAI0Q/a1XPifVzDFouXK6B3r99JJ66sHphDVtwACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210630_153644.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2HoTPDKadjQ/YSrPuenjK5I/AAAAAAAAI0Q/a1XPifVzDFouXK6B3r99JJ66sHphDVtwACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210630_153644.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>Hands express so much of who we are. In pre-covid days a handshake was a sign of an agreement, integrity. Whether a friendly welcome, a kind pat on the hand, perhaps a grip of courage or joy. Hands tell a story and that has never been more real to me than recently as my family and I walked my husband/their father/his mother’s son home to his eternal life with Jesus.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.9733px;">My husband and I took each other’s hands many times during the years we dated in our last years of high school, clasped in prayer asking for Gods help, Joyfully clasped as we were married, gripping hands-white-knuckled as our kids were born, comforting one another as we said goodbye to parents and finally holding tight, praying for strength after receiving the news of a cancer that gave him only days to live.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.9733px;">I took this picture during one of the last lucid moments during his week-long home hospice stay. To me, it’s a symbol of our wedding vows of “til death do us part”- a few days later, I held his hand and walked him to be home with our Lord. While I miss him terribly, I give praise and thanksgiving that I will see him again down the road. Until then-- as we adopted the psalm verse that began our friendship which turned into 43 years of blessings & love- so will it always stay rooted in my heart. “O magnify the Lord with me. Let us exalt His name together.” (Psalm 34:3) </span></p></span></div></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><h3 style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Lizbeth</span></h3><h3 style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gy2L6JP7zhk/YVaRF_T00rI/AAAAAAAAQYo/xU97e12szZ84I51L4wK0CTNUeO-BYzKxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/20170628_165320a.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gy2L6JP7zhk/YVaRF_T00rI/AAAAAAAAQYo/xU97e12szZ84I51L4wK0CTNUeO-BYzKxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20170628_165320a.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Last month I wrote about my dad who passed away four years ago after battling dementia for ten years. I'm using my memories of Dad one more time here to talk about hands. One thing that is special and a comfort to me is remembering how often I went with my mom to visit, to sit with Dad, and talk to him, to help feed him and hold his hands. But the most special thing from those last years is that, because I am very lucky to babysit my grandchildren once a week, I more often than not spent part of each of our days together bringing them to visit Great-Grandpa. Dad lost his ability to speak during his last three years, but his eyes spoke volumes whenever his greats came to visit. And his hands played such an important part of our visits. We would set baby Riley in Great-Grandpa's lap and push them in the wheelchair together. Dad would not want to let him go and his hands, no matter how frail otherwise, would hold Riley securely. Riley would NEVER cry and would hold Great-Grandpa's thumbs in his tiny fists. Dad would rest his whole hand on Riley's head like a blessing, and I think old and young together would feel peace. We all held hands a lot during those times. Because we didn't have all the words, our hands were our instruments of love and communication. I am blessed to have this picture of Dad's hand topped by Riley's. The old bequeathing life to the young. The young giving comfort to the old. God was so good, holding us in His loving hands, and giving Riley and my dad this first and last year together. <br /></span></span></span></h3></span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><i style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><span style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">What story do your hands tell? Is it a story you're satisfied with, or remembering, or are you in the middle of creating something new?</span></i></b></span></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" /></p>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-34224392961130259772021-09-17T04:00:00.161-04:002021-09-17T04:00:00.266-04:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in September<p><span style="font-size: medium;">The vibrant purple-blue Hydrangea is the one that always catches my eye. It caught my eye so much that one summer I took a chance and bought a potted one to put on my balcony. Unfortunately, it only lasted for that summer. I guess it must have been an annual type. That's my story and I'm sticking to it! Luckily, many years ago my mom gave me a perennial Hydrangea from her garden and it still lives. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm also lucky that so many people in Victoria have Hydrangeas in their gardens. Gardens I can walk by and photograph. Here are some of those photos -- from my previous balcony and beyond. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NG4BXGHJt0s/X_wmtuO_qjI/AAAAAAAADTU/ddGF4CaOccsXSQLtZNpG2KxYkJ4rFZXkgCPcBGAYYCw/s960/flowerHappy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NG4BXGHJt0s/X_wmtuO_qjI/AAAAAAAADTU/ddGF4CaOccsXSQLtZNpG2KxYkJ4rFZXkgCPcBGAYYCw/w400-h225/flowerHappy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hydrangea that brightened my balcony garden for one summer<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBkdfXzmMwI/X_wph5ILgmI/AAAAAAAADTk/EVTHaKexZHc3qvvDzUe84BPwKk1TyvWRACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20180726_194311.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="1212" data-original-width="2048" height="236" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBkdfXzmMwI/X_wph5ILgmI/AAAAAAAADTk/EVTHaKexZHc3qvvDzUe84BPwKk1TyvWRACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h236/20180726_194311.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">The eye-catching purple-blue shade that always...catches my eye :) </span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjayZe3XFKU/X_wphxJ-dxI/AAAAAAAADTo/86yJ3DjxRiQwQJJVPXAudw6SxgThM4fWQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20180726_194338-Share.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjayZe3XFKU/X_wphxJ-dxI/AAAAAAAADTo/86yJ3DjxRiQwQJJVPXAudw6SxgThM4fWQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20180726_194338-Share.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6MQFmVlQdvI/X_wu_0SUrLI/AAAAAAAADUE/2cJYqjSxPE8ppUyB9f6brXr6rpkcJTZNgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190708_133227.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6MQFmVlQdvI/X_wu_0SUrLI/AAAAAAAADUE/2cJYqjSxPE8ppUyB9f6brXr6rpkcJTZNgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190708_133227.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EFvqRgbrqmY/X_wu_4XzwPI/AAAAAAAADUA/cemmN4uE7CI0CKgo2cf1brTbEx4MqqrvgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190716_134829%2Bshared%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EFvqRgbrqmY/X_wu_4XzwPI/AAAAAAAADUA/cemmN4uE7CI0CKgo2cf1brTbEx4MqqrvgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190716_134829%2Bshared%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BaqubxGwxyA/X_wu_zhkXDI/AAAAAAAADUI/LAfeb6Bt65AqDi21KjJ2ALTZI9wcnv5PwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190716_133249.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BaqubxGwxyA/X_wu_zhkXDI/AAAAAAAADUI/LAfeb6Bt65AqDi21KjJ2ALTZI9wcnv5PwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190716_133249.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uWvAECSqEgk/X_wvAisdNwI/AAAAAAAADUM/1Ous5iPP2cIRGfUmcFzUg8JRmfrts32ZwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1744/20190902_173314%2Bcopy%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hydrangeas by Victoria's Empress Hotel" border="0" data-original-height="1744" data-original-width="1097" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uWvAECSqEgk/X_wvAisdNwI/AAAAAAAADUM/1Ous5iPP2cIRGfUmcFzUg8JRmfrts32ZwCLcBGAsYHQ/w251-h400/20190902_173314%2Bcopy%2BFB.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hydrangeas by Victoria's Empress Hotel</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WFuPgFFzrKM/X_wmtIbe6xI/AAAAAAAADTI/USHxfGfjEl4Tzbi_wAQsdr8qHvaQ0Cx2QCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/20180811_173810.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span><img alt="Hydrangeas" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WFuPgFFzrKM/X_wmtIbe6xI/AAAAAAAADTI/USHxfGfjEl4Tzbi_wAQsdr8qHvaQ0Cx2QCPcBGAYYCw/w400-h225/20180811_173810.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SrsAhZZ-vKo/X_wo2Ox6jII/AAAAAAAADTc/bmNTDqCwzBg-C4czW7phKJkHlSe9bB7uQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20180920_093733.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A very uniquely colored and shaped Hydrangea" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SrsAhZZ-vKo/X_wo2Ox6jII/AAAAAAAADTc/bmNTDqCwzBg-C4czW7phKJkHlSe9bB7uQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20180920_093733.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A uniquely colored and shaped Hydrangea</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/01/jacqui-nelson-friday-flowers-in-august.html" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see my August blog post and a lot of Sweet Pea, Sunflower, and Coneflower pics 🎉🌻 </span></span></span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span><span>Victoria, Canada), visit my </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a><span> and </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a><span> pages. </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div></div><p><span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; text-indent: 0cm;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a><span face="calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span> </p>Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-79872487880502186022021-09-11T01:00:00.011-04:002021-09-11T01:00:00.358-04:00THROUGH MY LENS<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "Cherry Cream Soda"; font-size: 30px; font-style: italic;">We Will Never Forget 9/11/2001</span></p><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4234893474774734148" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 668px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ndvChoYP5Ng/WbQ3CGiNVEI/AAAAAAAAVxI/MfFxM_P6fh4DKQwtYtWc2On5YlKM7cMywCLcBGAs/s1600/9-11-lights11.jpg" style="color: #386fa9; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="500" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ndvChoYP5Ng/WbQ3CGiNVEI/AAAAAAAAVxI/MfFxM_P6fh4DKQwtYtWc2On5YlKM7cMywCLcBGAs/w400-h266/9-11-lights11.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We hope you'll take a moment to </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NEVER FORGET</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nfRndi0jzGk/WbQ4Q8L641I/AAAAAAAAVxc/-RPPqP9ceBkYyygOYqO9LYfgPz9aZwpeACLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-BirthdayRoseAt911Memorial.JPG" style="clear: left; color: #386fa9; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="179" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nfRndi0jzGk/WbQ4Q8L641I/AAAAAAAAVxc/-RPPqP9ceBkYyygOYqO9LYfgPz9aZwpeACLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-BirthdayRoseAt911Memorial.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: x-large;">If you've visited the 9/11 Memorial, then you may have noticed a white rose amidst the names. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They are birthday roses set out for each hero. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0b6-fBjRMWw/WbQ4Ptd1IbI/AAAAAAAAVxY/keMiTtZL8_41CjF2gVh6cvDJSTI7xhS8ACLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911MemorialMuseum.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #386fa9; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0b6-fBjRMWw/WbQ4Ptd1IbI/AAAAAAAAVxY/keMiTtZL8_41CjF2gVh6cvDJSTI7xhS8ACLcBGAs/s400/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911MemorialMuseum.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here's <a href="https://www.911memorial.org/birthday-roses" style="color: #386fa9; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">more about that story</a> from the Memorial site.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X_w3gwcHITg/WbQ4PnrRFQI/AAAAAAAAVxU/5-hc54DxBGAuEEO0ifGX3zAXmzhkNVhgQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B59.JPG" style="clear: left; color: #386fa9; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="223" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X_w3gwcHITg/WbQ4PnrRFQI/AAAAAAAAVxU/5-hc54DxBGAuEEO0ifGX3zAXmzhkNVhgQCLcBGAs/s400/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B59.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: x-large;">And here are some pictures from my visits.</span></div><br /><br /><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I shared my short <a href="https://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2011/09/we-will-never-forget.html" style="color: #386fa9; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">story</a> on the tenth anniversary. Here it is again.</span></b></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4234893474774734148" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 668px;"><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ysu_ooYttE/WbQ4JPs7RlI/AAAAAAAAVxQ/yt2AdMZudmI6viblan_NWWBClKT-7mNKQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B50.JPG" style="clear: right; color: #386fa9; float: right; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><br /></a><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ysu_ooYttE/WbQ4JPs7RlI/AAAAAAAAVxQ/yt2AdMZudmI6viblan_NWWBClKT-7mNKQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B50.JPG" style="clear: right; color: #386fa9; float: right; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><br /></a><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ysu_ooYttE/WbQ4JPs7RlI/AAAAAAAAVxQ/yt2AdMZudmI6viblan_NWWBClKT-7mNKQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B50.JPG" style="clear: right; color: #386fa9; float: right; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><br /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kQhPeDmD2O0/WbapKRkfCgI/AAAAAAAAVyI/593tq5AFV_4j2yxJDSQ8iuJd5w1E5m4RgCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B01.jpg" style="clear: right; color: #386fa9; display: inline; float: right; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kQhPeDmD2O0/WbapKRkfCgI/AAAAAAAAVyI/593tq5AFV_4j2yxJDSQ8iuJd5w1E5m4RgCLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B01.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="320" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ymF3PTmd8d0/WbapJDXPfxI/AAAAAAAAVyE/QqvDP4-wOTIjjHGAsYh2pf6TftAUg4vqQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B03.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #386fa9; float: left; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ymF3PTmd8d0/WbapJDXPfxI/AAAAAAAAVyE/QqvDP4-wOTIjjHGAsYh2pf6TftAUg4vqQCLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B03.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="320" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sBvtMk7b6ek/WbapT9JIzYI/AAAAAAAAVyU/CaPsJ05ItJkU-klzy-gH67iGPHoymO95gCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B04.jpg" style="clear: right; color: #386fa9; float: right; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sBvtMk7b6ek/WbapT9JIzYI/AAAAAAAAVyU/CaPsJ05ItJkU-klzy-gH67iGPHoymO95gCLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B04.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="320" /></a><br /><div style="font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5Bwv-uPvpyY/WbaqeUBitwI/AAAAAAAAVyc/qyPX8DbYwLEE4lZ7R2tAO4r7Ye4MSYmjACLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-September11Memorial40.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #386fa9; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5Bwv-uPvpyY/WbaqeUBitwI/AAAAAAAAVyc/qyPX8DbYwLEE4lZ7R2tAO4r7Ye4MSYmjACLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-September11Memorial40.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="180" /></a><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8RutvovMW0E/WbapSrMq9eI/AAAAAAAAVyM/qnPT4aZurY4z5Ex01L-WTbpeu1DdvPeJQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B05.jpg" style="color: #386fa9; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8RutvovMW0E/WbapSrMq9eI/AAAAAAAAVyM/qnPT4aZurY4z5Ex01L-WTbpeu1DdvPeJQCLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-911Memorial%2B2014%2B05.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BfXP4ka5oFE/WbapT35OhaI/AAAAAAAAVyQ/bSpcwO5ATXMoNvEpJkEDyFzGV32sfETdQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-Bell.jpg" style="clear: right; color: #386fa9; float: right; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BfXP4ka5oFE/WbapT35OhaI/AAAAAAAAVyQ/bSpcwO5ATXMoNvEpJkEDyFzGV32sfETdQCLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-Bell.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="180" /></a><br /><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtFIKpZ1EMQ/WbaqfYXisAI/AAAAAAAAVyg/cQR0RT1O4-cAO3f4P8VaNiR62eFCRXaAQCLcBGAs/s1600/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-September11Memorial39.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #386fa9; float: left; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtFIKpZ1EMQ/WbaqfYXisAI/AAAAAAAAVyg/cQR0RT1O4-cAO3f4P8VaNiR62eFCRXaAQCLcBGAs/s320/Angi%2BMorgan%2B-September11Memorial39.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="180" /></a><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><br /><br /><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Where were you?</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b><br /><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b><b style="font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I shared my short <a href="https://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2011/09/we-will-never-forget.html" style="color: #386fa9; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">story</a> on the tenth anniversary.</span></b></div>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-78133316169199156372021-09-03T01:00:00.505-04:002021-09-03T01:00:00.406-04:00STORIES OF THE HEART<p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-209wiNcd1aA/X-gs_8OtL4I/AAAAAAAAdMk/UOk_5T9YLSUXFR-Ex0SRG1i8y0ctQVdwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-209wiNcd1aA/X-gs_8OtL4I/AAAAAAAAdMk/UOk_5T9YLSUXFR-Ex0SRG1i8y0ctQVdwgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h334/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--.jpg" width="640" /></a></p>We wanted to share some feel-good moments from our life. Stories from our Hearts was originally conceived by Amanda McIntyre. If you get a chance read more by clicking the link in the right sidebar. I know the authors at GLIAS are all grateful to the healthcare professionals this past year. I am super proud of my daughter for not only following her heart but for also receiving her registered nurse diploma. That would be hard enough. And yet, she did it during a pandemic. She didn't shy away from helping those in need. I admire all the healthcare profession especially those who have gone above and beyond with sacrifices of time and separations from their families. Another shout out to my cousin who is also a nurse in Oklahoma City, working the front lines of the Co-Vid 19 floor. Prayers to you all.<div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h8KpIe3Sf10/X-gxiyvUWQI/AAAAAAAAdMw/FwWCOKE3D5kKaTPCidgpHcSqNicSqnIqACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Liz.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h8KpIe3Sf10/X-gxiyvUWQI/AAAAAAAAdMw/FwWCOKE3D5kKaTPCidgpHcSqNicSqnIqACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Liz.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="320" /></a></div><br style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" /><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">My life has been so blessed with "heart" stories, I barely know how to pick one. I have an incredible mama who is 92 and still very active. I also have an amazing supportive husband and two grown children and their perfect spouses along with three grandchildren who make my life complete. But my true heart story belongs to my dad. It will be four years this October since we lost him to dementia. I'm pretty sure everyone reading this has dealt with this terrible disease in some way, so my story isn't about how awful it is--mine is about how wonderful the memories of helping care for a loved one who is slowly changing. </p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">In 2009, after returning from living away from my parents for three years, I started taking my dad on monthly dates. He was already showing signs of his losses to come--having trouble finding words, forgetting a few things. But we did all kinds of cool activities--visiting museums, our state's Governor's mansion at Christmas, going to movies, to local landmarks, miniature golf. And we always went somewhere fun for lunch. Over the next five years he grew less and less able to do physically demanding things like walking far--but we still managed to enjoy our dates. Finally, when he was no longer able to speak or walk well, we limited our time together to lunches out. He loved Indian food and IHOP, so we frequented two of our local pancake and curry establishments a lot the year before he had to move to a nursing facility. He spilled on his clothes, he sometimes couldn't find his mouth. But I helped him as he'd allow and, as long as he could make it into the restaurant, took him no matter what anyone might have thought . </p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jhNtbAu_1Ic/YS6JiOn306I/AAAAAAAAQKI/-1HW1H77vhUbqlG6PwHP8DORiHjBOxu2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s600/20170322_155034crop.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="600" height="194" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jhNtbAu_1Ic/YS6JiOn306I/AAAAAAAAQKI/-1HW1H77vhUbqlG6PwHP8DORiHjBOxu2ACLcBGAsYHQ/w200-h194/20170322_155034crop.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>When he was no longer at home, my amazing mother drove every single day to see him, rain or shine. I went usually once a week, sometimes twice. And because he was lucky enough to know two of his great-grandchildren, I brought them to visit regularly as well. No matter where he was in his mind, he always seemed to know Mom and the babies. He held them tenderly, hated for them to be taken away, and they brightened his day. Also, whenever I was with him at mealtime, it was an honor to help feed him -- a continuation of our wonderful years of lunch dates. <p></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">I was not special. My whole family treated Daddy this way. I'm proud of how we tried to help maintain his dignity to the end. When he passed away, we were glad he no longer had to be trapped in his silent body, but I feared that maybe the last years would be painful to remember. It turned out they absolutely are not. They are some of my greatest heart treasures. I learned to be patient, to be somewhat accepting of what I couldn't change, and how to honor someone wherever they are at. So--I thank my dad for the lessons of love he taught me, even when he had no idea how much I was learning! <br /></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdCJp0fQYFU/X-gxol963dI/AAAAAAAAdM0/wRcOto42Vz81XDPwNRgV27Sb8N4stZ2VACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Jacqui.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdCJp0fQYFU/X-gxol963dI/AAAAAAAAdM0/wRcOto42Vz81XDPwNRgV27Sb8N4stZ2VACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Jacqui.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="320" /></a></div><p>For as long as I can remember, I've had poor eyesight. It’s made me extremely appreciative of any day I've been able to see. I'm very nearsighted and have astigmatism. I've worn glasses since I was around 7. When I was 22, I had a detached retina (that didn't get fixed in time to save all of the sight in that eye) and doctors have told me I'm legally blind in that eye. </p><p>The other week I went to a specialist eye doctor to have an assortment of extra eye exams. The good news is there’s nothing new happening with my eyes. They are just their usual bad, which isn’t great but at least nothing hugely new and hugely concerning is happening. </p><p>So far I don't have glaucoma, but the pressure on my eyes is on the edge of acceptable, so that's something to still have monitored regularly. </p><p>I was told I have a cataract in the eye that had the detached retina. The doctor said it has been there for some time (but this was the first time I was hearing about it) and it may have resulted from the detached retina. He said he wouldn't recommend doing anything with the cataract unless a cataract developed in my other eye. Apparently, cataract surgery should happen on both eyes to...something about keeping them in sync. But he also said cataract surgery would put me at more risk of another retinal detachment, so I'm definitely putting off any cataract surgery for as long as possible. </p><p>This specialist eye doctor also told me that he’d lived in the city (778 miles away from where we were now) where I had my detached retina surgery. He talked like a detective in a mystery novel trying to figure out if he (or one of his colleagues) had done my retina surgery 30 years ago. It's a small world. And I'm very appreciative that he is my doctor now and he (or one of his colleagues) was my doctor back then as well. Thank the heavens for good doctors! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1V2DWpBcCgU/YS5Swn3GDuI/AAAAAAAAfHk/rULvd8Kw8UcJmi1PTZcNFrVAcpYyO2aXQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--EE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="168" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1V2DWpBcCgU/YS5Swn3GDuI/AAAAAAAAfHk/rULvd8Kw8UcJmi1PTZcNFrVAcpYyO2aXQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--EE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BP6OkzUXF-Q/YSlVOWMS_9I/AAAAAAAAH1k/z8m4ri5NDrsdg9-R3p-jt_-NIQy-N3ZHQCLcBGAsYHQ/s648/IMG_1821.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="486" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BP6OkzUXF-Q/YSlVOWMS_9I/AAAAAAAAH1k/z8m4ri5NDrsdg9-R3p-jt_-NIQy-N3ZHQCLcBGAsYHQ/w240-h320/IMG_1821.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">The year 2020 was a tough one for all of us, but our family also experienced one of the most joyful moments in our lives--the birth of our grandson. Henry has been such a blessing in so many ways. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">He's now 18-months-old, and is the smartest, sweetest little guy. And he LOVES books...just like his mommy and his Nana! Here's a picture from his first day in his new "big boy" classroom. He's found a book and is engrossed. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I never imagined myself as one of those doting grandmas, but, boy, am I ever! I'm so glad we live within driving distance so I can get my "Henry fix" at least once a week. Yet another blessing, living close to my kids. More than ever, I am thankful for family and for the gift of life.</div></span></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br /></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-svqfxi5HoGY/X-gx2_40YDI/AAAAAAAAdNE/q5ZkarUL77oKqkGxx86Om2qjUSzxqn53QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--CH.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-svqfxi5HoGY/X-gx2_40YDI/AAAAAAAAdNE/q5ZkarUL77oKqkGxx86Om2qjUSzxqn53QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--CH.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">They say that hindsight
is 20/20…perhaps that’s true. When something so traumatic occurs in your life
that you haven’t a moment to process the news, you pray while you hold your
tears inside, keep your head down, focus on the situation, and do your utmost
to do whatever is required to carry on for the good of all. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">There have been many
times in the last 45 years when the traumatic has occurred, but the keeper of
my heart and I had our faith to carry us through as we did what was needed
until we’d made it through to the other side of the trauma, whole as a family,
whole as a couple, saying grateful prayers of thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">When my darling was
diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer on January 21, 2020--four days after his 65<sup>th</sup>
birthday, we prayed and never gave up hope that he would pull through. His
surgeon was confident, and after 8 hours of a successful surgery, he was
effusive in telling us he’d removed all of the cancer—no further treatment
would be necessary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">A few months later we
received the call from his oncologist; the results from Sloan Kettering had
been delayed because of the pandemic, but their second opinion was clear--chemo
would be necessary. DJ took it in stride as he planned to fight this disease.
He went through two rounds of chemo before the side affects had him on his
knees in pain unable to walk. Still he soldiered on, confident that he would
arise the victor. We never stopped praying, never gave up hope.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">While there is far more
to DJ’s heroic battle, and the on-going struggle to accept the hole in our
lives where he once stood, our family is slowly mending nine months after we
said goodbye to the rock that we depended upon. Each of us in turn has said
that we were carrying on because we knew that is what “Dad” (in our children’s
case) or “DJ” (in my case,) would have wanted and expected us to do. Remembered
conversations and favorite sayings are part of our everyday lives now, slowly
filling a bit of that hole with the essence of the man who once stood beside
us, loving us, cheering us on—or telling us to accept what is and keep moving
forward. I see bits and pieces of DJ in our sons, our daughter, our son-in-law,
and our grandsons—and everywhere in our home and gardens…where we worked
side-by-side to make it truly ours. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Life is a precious gift
that I give thanks for every day. In my daily prayers, I thank God for the
gifts in my life: life, another day, family, hearth, home, love, health, hope,
and words. Whatever higher power you believe in, and I truly believe there are
far more things in Heaven and on earth that we have yet to understand, do take
a moment to say thank you for the gift of life and please do not ever take it
for granted.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BJy6m_6aOHE/X-gx8fxY_LI/AAAAAAAAdNM/DG7wxiJ70M8dVqLcxe7w0AP8dnsizdRfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BJy6m_6aOHE/X-gx8fxY_LI/AAAAAAAAdNM/DG7wxiJ70M8dVqLcxe7w0AP8dnsizdRfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="320" /></a></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">I need to remember a story from my heart. Something that inspired me. So I'm not going to chat about the current world or things that I've been battling this year. Travel with me to a time in my life where I was single with two kids. Back to the time I held eleven jobs in one year (many simultaneously). Back when asking for help just wasn't in my vocabulary. Back to when my current life philosophy of <b>paying it forward</b> was created...</p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">My car broke down all the time. Sometimes when my dad was out of town (he drove a big rig), in order to get to my second job (cleaning a small office building at night), I pulled my two small children in a wagon over two miles three nights a week. We ate a lot of spaghetti and green beans back then. Please don't misunderstand my story. I never went hungry. My parents were present and I could eat at their house anytime I wanted (or needed). It was my pride that prevented asking more often. This went on for a while. And then one evening, several bags of groceries were waiting at my apartment door. I had friends from church, from college, and from old jobs and no one ever admitted to the generous gift. I never found out who.</p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">And during the same year, I received three different envelopes through the mail with cash. Totally anonymously again. And the person or persons never said anything. You might assume, like I did that the donation was from my parents--believe me when I say that wasn't in their wheelhouse. They paid for the kids' shoes, bicycles, and constantly found reasons to send them home with new clothes. So I knew the person giving to me so generously was for real. They didn't embarrass me by handing it to me face-to-face. The experience changed my life...along with meeting my mentor and friend a few months later.</p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">I had taken a job which required me commuting to Dallas. A friend mentioned a job at the university and I didn't really give it a thought. But that week, my car was hit in traffic three times. I took that as a sign and interviewed. Meeting Raedean changed me forever. Me took me under her wing (she took all her employees) and had a different supervising attitude that I wish I could have duplicated. One thing I'll never forget is going on break with her once a week. Sure we covered office improvements, but she always, always asked if there was anything she could help with--professionally or personally. Shoot, you could do that in the 80s. Those little caring conversations changed how I spoke to people. Those weekly fifteen-minute breaks showed me how important it is to remember just to ask people how they're doing and really listen to their answer. </p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">After I married Tim. I stayed home with the kids and volunteered. I hope I helped a little a long the way by picking kids up for a practice, or reading in a classroom, or finding softball gloves so girls could be on a team, or chatting with high school kids about their lives. Tiny things that I hope made life easier on parents or let kids know they mattered. I never forgot the anonymous donations and how they made me feel. I try to Pay It Forward as often as I can. Just last year, I was writing a note to a missionary family that due to the Co-Vid shutdowns I wouldn't be able to send my yearly donation. I didn't have to send it, Tim's job came back full-time.</p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">God showed me how to love. My mom showed me how to be kind. Raedean taught me how to listen. And an anonymous donator taught me to share my blessings.</p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MmR5bg9djMw/X-gyCwrZ5QI/AAAAAAAAdNQ/mV6EYJ2o3ikyGTG8Nrkw0t4_QZiLrD5TwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Amanda.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MmR5bg9djMw/X-gyCwrZ5QI/AAAAAAAAdNQ/mV6EYJ2o3ikyGTG8Nrkw0t4_QZiLrD5TwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/09%2BSeptember%2BPromo--StoriesOfTheHeart--Amanda.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 107%;">Gratitude is always the center of any heart story. I’m
trying to be more mindful of being grateful, seeing my blessings around me, and
because I’m blessed, being a blessing to others. Here is my prayer of gratitude—my
hope that more people would appreciate the teachers that everyday face
uncertainty in their classrooms during these tumultuous times. I implore you to
support them however possible, work as a team for the betterment of your child
and ALL the children in the schools.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 107%;"> Be mindful of
the incredible pressures these teachers are getting from all sides and how they
are doing their best to simply be good teachers and help their students to view
themselves as productive, special people. Teachers--the good ones, and there
are many-- are doing their best incredible odds-much of which they have no
control over directly. While it’s a stressful time for us all during this
pandemic, let us stop and be grateful that we have public schools and many,
many good teachers out there who wanted to teach because they’d been taught by
good teachers. Thank you, Sam, Kate, Andrea, Shannon, Dave, Melissa, and so
many more, past & present, that honor the profession of teaching with their
integrity, determination, and kindness. We could ALL learn a lesson from them!<o:p style="font-size: 14pt;"></o:p></span></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br /></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><i style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><span style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); color: #800180; font-size: large;">Hope you'll share your heart stories with us.</span></i></b></p>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-14108169918775795492021-08-20T04:00:00.120-04:002021-08-20T14:11:10.658-04:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in August<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Victoria's flower season starts early compared to other parts of the world, so sometimes it feels like the explosion of flowers is over by August. But August is still a great time for a lot of wonderful flowers like Sweet Peas, Sunflowers, and pink or yellow Echinacea/Coneflowers. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Sweat Peas are hard to find in Victoria, so I was very lucky and very glad to find a patch on a trellis in Government House Gardens in 2020 and on a chain-link fence behind Christ Church Cathedral way back in 2017. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bp07dso_ExY/X_wjhh8DCwI/AAAAAAAADSQ/eCeR-OXhYUMRPyuJCZ48l5crF35qVFo6wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1910/20200727_083748%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img alt="Sweat Peas in Government House Gardens" border="0" data-original-height="1132" data-original-width="1910" height="238" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bp07dso_ExY/X_wjhh8DCwI/AAAAAAAADSQ/eCeR-OXhYUMRPyuJCZ48l5crF35qVFo6wCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h238/20200727_083748%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweat Peas in Government House Gardens<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PVvVZsFyvfs/X_wjh0C3OyI/AAAAAAAADSY/fT2aRoZ0M8Is1hXz2TniwgFndcROz1PDACLcBGAsYHQ/s2047/20200727_083742%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sweat Peas in Government House Gardens" border="0" data-original-height="1090" data-original-width="2047" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PVvVZsFyvfs/X_wjh0C3OyI/AAAAAAAADSY/fT2aRoZ0M8Is1hXz2TniwgFndcROz1PDACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h213/20200727_083742%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweat Peas in Government House Gardens</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gOvjQLMEUBY/X_w5aN24q5I/AAAAAAAADVk/v83mjs9Tfnkgdvn7jJ9xUgLbUpOnpA3BgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20170708_134705.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sweat Peas behind Christ Church Cathedral" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gOvjQLMEUBY/X_w5aN24q5I/AAAAAAAADVk/v83mjs9Tfnkgdvn7jJ9xUgLbUpOnpA3BgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20170708_134705.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweat Peas behind Christ Church Cathedral</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jTP1czp-L4s/X_wke6o9uzI/AAAAAAAADSs/k4ax-hH1G6w__nC5SEFTCDyXxKhpLdF3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1684/20200808_132518%2BFB%2Bcopy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sunflowers" border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="1684" height="270" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jTP1czp-L4s/X_wke6o9uzI/AAAAAAAADSs/k4ax-hH1G6w__nC5SEFTCDyXxKhpLdF3gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h270/20200808_132518%2BFB%2Bcopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rUwZMol0kRk/X_w3osdV5aI/AAAAAAAADVU/hhO5tR3EgA0p3rdd4vtr90hFWDgKtU_XgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20160511_104213.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sunflowers" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rUwZMol0kRk/X_w3osdV5aI/AAAAAAAADVU/hhO5tR3EgA0p3rdd4vtr90hFWDgKtU_XgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20160511_104213.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gjBT_GSXr2Y/X_w3o5zEqqI/AAAAAAAADVY/hc2dvxe-7mkYNZLQ-3gUW0KnKLdY7ZAeACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20160803_132258.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sunflowers" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gjBT_GSXr2Y/X_w3o5zEqqI/AAAAAAAADVY/hc2dvxe-7mkYNZLQ-3gUW0KnKLdY7ZAeACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20160803_132258.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_ZrnX8o29g/X_wi07KZJBI/AAAAAAAADSI/kvAeuL85TmwhDcmjZ85Ot3OLfLszGFLEwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1959/20200808_125540%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Echinacea/Coneflowers" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1959" height="235" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_ZrnX8o29g/X_wi07KZJBI/AAAAAAAADSI/kvAeuL85TmwhDcmjZ85Ot3OLfLszGFLEwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h235/20200808_125540%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bo1FBiSO1Fg/X_wphysOOHI/AAAAAAAADT4/L6t4kbJTh1oKeIc30i_CnwOC5TEaSb6QACPcBGAYYCw/s2048/20180802_102318-Shared.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Echinacea/Coneflowers" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bo1FBiSO1Fg/X_wphysOOHI/AAAAAAAADT4/L6t4kbJTh1oKeIc30i_CnwOC5TEaSb6QACPcBGAYYCw/w400-h225/20180802_102318-Shared.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span><span><a href="https://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/07/jacquis-friday-flowers-in-july.html" style="background-color: white; color: #386fa9; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: medium; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Click here</a><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, Palatino Linotype, Palatino, serif;"> to see my July blog post with Red Hot Pokers, Daisies, and Victoria's iconic hanging flower baskets </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, Palatino Linotype, Palatino, serif;">💐</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, Palatino Linotype, Palatino, serif;">🌈</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span>Victoria, Canada), visit my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> pages. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">~ * ~ </div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a> </div></div></div>Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-85777407496809649152021-08-16T16:00:00.002-04:002021-08-16T16:00:00.325-04:00E.E. Burke's Featured Deal<h1 style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RbYKhI2Lbm8/YRbRaEwsfQI/AAAAAAAAHzk/G_tWIjuBXQcgSorxWqorUVgdLZlifuw8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/HerBodyguard_Standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RbYKhI2Lbm8/YRbRaEwsfQI/AAAAAAAAHzk/G_tWIjuBXQcgSorxWqorUVgdLZlifuw8gCLcBGAsYHQ/w266-h400/HerBodyguard_Standard.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://books2read.com/u/bOrXGJ" target="_blank">Featured Deal for 99 cents</a></td></tr></tbody></table></h1><h3><b>The most dangerous man may be the one she just hired.</b></h3><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1870, a land war between a railroad and Kansas settlers explodes into violence. Amy Langford, a strong woman who steps into her father's shoes to promote the railroad, becomes the target of attacks. When a ruggedly handsome drifter comes to her rescue, she trusts her instincts and hires him as her bodyguard. Her life is protected, but her heart is not.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Buck O’Connor is a wanted man with a dark past, which he hides from Amy, as well as his purpose for returning to Kansas. A purpose that puts him at odds with his new employer’s ambitions and makes the life she begins to imagine between them impossible. When his deceptions unravel, it threatens to destroy not only Amy’s future, but also her love—the only power on earth that could redeem him.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b>It's not easy being a strong woman in a man's world...</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b>In <i><a href="http://books2read.com/u/bOrXGJ" target="_blank">Her Bodyguard</a></i>, the heroine, Amy Langford, steps into her late father's role with a railroad that's racing to construct track to the Kansas border ahead of its rival. <br />If mysterious threats on her life and rioting settlers aren't bad enough, she has to go toe-to-toe with powerful men who stand in her way. Three of these men also left their mark on history. Read on to find out who they were and what they did.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="476" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gu8wUOVu6J0/YRbZNxOob1I/AAAAAAAAH0I/gdbncFUsSRkMGQLJRNHgpiOJ-Vej7ArlACLcBGAsYHQ/w267-h320/Joy.png" width="267" /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Railroad Magnate</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">James Frederick Joy was the president of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy railroads (which included the MFS&G line through Kansas that Amy is promoting). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Earlier in his legal career, Joy hired and worked alongside a young Illinois attorney by the name of Abraham Lincoln. They became lifelong friends.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Mr. Joy developed a talent for financial and executive enterprises and became one of the great railroad builders of his century. In Kansas, however, he met his Waterloo in the form of a settlers' revolt against the railroad's purchase of land they were currently homesteading.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In my novel, the fictionalized Mr. Joy hires Amy, but he becomes skeptical of her unconventional approach to the problems they face. However, his solutions only served to further anger the settlers.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The brilliant engineer</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXeJFmU5IhY/YRbZasISBMI/AAAAAAAAH0Q/mkbzlBjcEA8TvzT7YNoFlm4oNzkkPLFcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s586/Chanute.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="460" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXeJFmU5IhY/YRbZasISBMI/AAAAAAAAH0Q/mkbzlBjcEA8TvzT7YNoFlm4oNzkkPLFcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Chanute.png" width="251" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1869, the first bridge across the Missouri River opened a flood of westward expansion by rail. Octave Chanute, a self-taught engineer with no formal training, supervised construction on a task that daunted the greatest minds of the time. He forged his own tools, brought in pile drivers, built dredges and derricks in a makeshift machine shop. No wonder Joy put him in charge of the MFS&G.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It was hard enough to construct a line being vandalized regularly, but Chanute insisted on building a track that would last, even if it took longer and cost more. It's a decision Amy questions and warns him about in my novel. Ironically, Chanute’s commitment to quality contributed to the railroad's ultimate defeat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Later in life, Chanute became obsessed with flight. In the 1890s he gathered and published research, designed gliders and gave valuable advice to the Wright brothers. Octave Chanute became an engineering icon and left an indelible mark on history with his achievements. Unfortunately, the success of the MFS&G railroad was not one of them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The fiery newspaper editor</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iXp1RYiHQXY/YRbZjfC0nKI/AAAAAAAAH0c/Td2cuUKeeFcxL_YZjlEYbo-mC8drxje6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s758/letter%2Bfrom%2Bgovernor.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="758" data-original-width="605" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iXp1RYiHQXY/YRbZjfC0nKI/AAAAAAAAH0c/Td2cuUKeeFcxL_YZjlEYbo-mC8drxje6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/letter%2Bfrom%2Bgovernor.png" width="255" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Amos Sanford, a Kansas politician and newspaper editor, becomes a huge thorn in Amy’s side. In real life, he was a fiery figure on the Kansas prairie who published a newspaper that railed against the railroad’s land policies. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Sanford and his followers were so successful at stirring up unrest that the federal government had to send in troops to keep the peace. Shown here is a letter from the Kansas governor denying a Cherokee Country sheriff's request to have federal soldiers removed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In Her Bodyguard, Amy runs into problems when a rally she plans creates an opportunity for her enemies to make trouble. One of those opposing her is the rabble-rousing newspaper editor.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://books2read.com/u/bOrXGJ" target="_blank">BookBub Featured Deal for 99 cents</a></span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Passion and intrigue fuel this Western romance as it races through historic events with twists and turns that raise the stakes all the way to the end. Grab this first book in the Steam! series while it's on sale for 99 cents.</span></i></p><p><br /></p></div>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-41231359007268300942021-08-06T01:00:00.158-04:002021-08-13T18:05:49.796-04:00THE GOOD OLD DAYS<p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lDYwiJy0YOQ/X-g37VoViTI/AAAAAAAAdNc/EtGcCZMRUOEhOxlo_2DigQnwRRzcVNd7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2BPromo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lDYwiJy0YOQ/X-g37VoViTI/AAAAAAAAdNc/EtGcCZMRUOEhOxlo_2DigQnwRRzcVNd7gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h334/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2BPromo.jpg" width="640" /></a></p>How long ago were the <i>Good Old Days </i>anyway? My days meant I could walk home from school. or to a friend's house without an adult. All my mom had to do was call my name from the kitchen door and I knew I needed to get home. Yes, it was before cell phones and social media, but a man had walked on the moon. Gasoline costs around .30 cents per gallon (yeah...not a type-o). I watched Lee Harvey Oswald get assassinated on live black & white television. The first time I heard the Jackson 5 the Osmonds or the Archies it was on a cereal box record. I didn't have my toys other than Barbies, a sand box, a doll with a giant teardrop on her face (Lil' Miss No Name--had to look that one up). But I had my bike, the library and a huge imagination. Who needed more? When were the 'good old days' for you? Let us know in the comments to be eligible for the drawing.<div><br /></div><div><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">ANGI</span></b><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a4METMT1hJQ/X-g4IluhioI/AAAAAAAAdNg/XM1aYdLt_q4RiL3X4OFBf_CEAjz2x9WygCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2B--Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a4METMT1hJQ/X-g4IluhioI/AAAAAAAAdNg/XM1aYdLt_q4RiL3X4OFBf_CEAjz2x9WygCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h209/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2B--Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="400" /></a></div><div>One thing I did was ride my bicycle EVERYwhere. As long as I was home for lunch and dinner...I was golden. I lived in the middle of the block and our yard literally had a white fence in front. My mom and dad worked hard to keep the St. Augustine grass very lush under a huge huge shade tree. And that's why when we played space ship we played it at my house. We'd turn our bicycles upside down and set them end-to-end in a circle. Then we'd spin the peddles for energy and take off. Someone would always use their front tire like a steering wheel. Man...those were fun days.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><b style="color: #2b00fe;">AMANDA</b></div><div><b style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duq6EjPzBrI/X-vWkY6E_jI/AAAAAAAAdUk/hrR4MPTdpm8Nt-dQHBcUQym27xV9yqnGgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h209/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2B--Amanda.jpg" width="400" /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">My
grandmother’s house was a wonderland of treasures. When I was young, its old
three-story splendor, its lush green yard surrounded entirely by a five-foot
hedge seemed like a fortress to my young imagination. Its Victorian beauty
sprawled from front to back, top to bottom with many rooms, closets, as well as
THE special drawer in the kitchen that housed the devil’s food cookies grandma
stocked when we came to visit. It is here, on the grand woven tapestry rug in
the living room that I first was introduced to the game of Chinese Checkers by
my aunt. The board itself was handmade my grandfather and the marbles had been
collected over time. While I love the game of checkers (yes, I’ll challenge any
old man sitting in front of a checkerboard—that’s another story all together!)
But something about the strategy of Chinese Checkers resonated—perhaps a
cherished memory of my grandmother’s home-and ever since, it has been a focal
point in our home. I have been known to buy Chinese Checker Boards as wedding
gifts. (I’ve read a friendly board or card game with your spouse can be
healthy!)</span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: left;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s one of
the first games I taught each of my children and I’ve made sure that each of
their homes also has a Chinese Checker board and there is never a family
gathering that goes by without the gauntlet being dropped to play a round or
two. Most recently, my oldest grandson (3.5 years) sat astutely watching his
mother and I play the game with its shiny marbles I keep in a blue mason jar. I
got him a checkerboard this year for Christmas, which means that not too far
down the road, I’ll have another generation to teach and perhaps beat this
savvy Gigi!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>E.E. Burke</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_z7VB8a-6OM/YRbpPsHA8JI/AAAAAAAAH0o/Udw3tUDWEAEIYRpOohlSA427FueK-hBwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s670/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-08-13%2Bat%2B4.49.29%2BPM.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="670" height="286" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_z7VB8a-6OM/YRbpPsHA8JI/AAAAAAAAH0o/Udw3tUDWEAEIYRpOohlSA427FueK-hBwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-08-13%2Bat%2B4.49.29%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Dominoes. I love to play a very simple game of Mexican Train Dominoes. We didn't start out doing this when I was a child, although I wish we had. I LOVE playing this game because anyone can play--even when you're tired, have to do wash in between, want to drink some wine without bombing the game, etc. It's a blast. We play it with the grandkids and the grandparents. Anyone up for a game?</span></p></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.9733px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>JACQUI</b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Co8eyM1JoXM/YRbrCoO-1yI/AAAAAAAADqo/Z2Fbzy1crkg5s6GM5b2kPm2p5Dut15GKACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2B--PUPPETS.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="168" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Co8eyM1JoXM/YRbrCoO-1yI/AAAAAAAADqo/Z2Fbzy1crkg5s6GM5b2kPm2p5Dut15GKACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/08%2BThe%2BGood%2BOld%2BDays%2BAugust%2B--PUPPETS.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Memories of childhood puppets have a special place in my heart. I can remember being very young and very brave and putting on a puppet play for a Christmas community event. I'm not one who even slightly enjoys being on stage, so this memory is quite remarkable for me!</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">These days I have one Little Red Riding Hood puppet that I like to put on the bookshelf that holds my how-to-write books or sometimes (as in the picture below) I arrange her with my other treasures for a photoshoot. I bought Little Red during a trip to the Czech Republic over 15 years ago. I'm continually happy that I chose to bring her home because she's a classic who never fails to make me smile. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-spWU-b-ecPw/YRbdy_R0BJI/AAAAAAAADqg/Sq-S1ibV0u0n_7R6u5T5mAiivvoUA6sgQCPcBGAYYCw/s1248/GLIAS-Jacqui-SnapShotFromThePast.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="1248" height="298" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-spWU-b-ecPw/YRbdy_R0BJI/AAAAAAAADqg/Sq-S1ibV0u0n_7R6u5T5mAiivvoUA6sgQCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h298/GLIAS-Jacqui-SnapShotFromThePast.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br /></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;"><b><i>WHEN WERE THE 'GOOD OLD DAYS' FOR YOU? Leave a comment to be eligible for (it's a secret!)</i></b></span></p><br /></div></div>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-84944739684422828572021-07-22T01:00:00.001-04:002021-07-22T11:14:32.206-04:00Steam! Special Edition: Fugitive Hearts from bestselling author E.E. Burke<h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mJAz5h87skQ/YNC_rqkhkII/AAAAAAAAHrU/m3aAAck8Hc46kC_W4Zike1KHg3haul65wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/FugitiveHearts_Standard.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mJAz5h87skQ/YNC_rqkhkII/AAAAAAAAHrU/m3aAAck8Hc46kC_W4Zike1KHg3haul65wCLcBGAsYHQ/w266-h400/FugitiveHearts_Standard.jpg" width="266" /></a></div></span></h2><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>Book 4, Steam! Romance and Rails</b></span></h4><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A lawman is determined to discover the simple truth. Justice--and love--are far more complicated.</b></span></h4><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Everyone in Parsons, Kansas, considers hotel owner Claire Daines a respectable, decent woman. Until she shocks the entire town when she rushes into a saloon in her nightclothes to confess to an inebriated lawman. “Sheriff, I shot my husband.” </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Is it an accident, as she claims? Or murder? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">As Sheriff Frank Garrity unravels the evasive widow’s subterfuge, the truth will challenge his notions about justice. The tough, uncompromising sheriff must choose between his desire to protect Claire and his duty to uphold the law.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>This evocative Western romance takes readers back to Kansas in the 1870s on a wild chase for two fugitives, who inspire one man's hope for a second chance.</i></span></p><p><a href="http://books2read.com/u/38DrAa" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank"><b>Buy<i> Fugitive Hearts</i></b></a></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ynX8UU9zaw/YNDAIuBe0UI/AAAAAAAAHrc/u26__TUwF_obYftRvPQ3OZv2KwgAdmTBACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ynX8UU9zaw/YNDAIuBe0UI/AAAAAAAAHrc/u26__TUwF_obYftRvPQ3OZv2KwgAdmTBACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>E.E. Burke</b> is a bestselling author of historical fiction and romances that combine her unique blend of wit and warmth. Her books have been nominated for numerous national and regional awards, including Booksellers' Best, National Readers' Choice and Kindle Best Book. She was also a finalist in the RWA's prestigious Golden Heart® contest. Over the years, she’s been a disc jockey, a journalist and an advertising executive, before finally getting around to living the dream--writing stories readers can get lost in.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Your stories are part of a series titled “Steam!” Does that mean they are “steamy” with lots of sex?</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Let me start by saying that I write sex scenes if they fit with the storyline. I don’t do it just to titillate or fit some formula. I knew from the start that the books in this series would have sex scenes because the relationships that develop between the main characters are visceral and physical, as well as emotional. But I try to write it so that the scene is passionate not just sexual. The scene in Fugitive Hearts between Claire, who has been neglected and abused and has never experienced true physical passion, and Frank, who has withheld physical gratification from himself for so long as a kind of penance, is one of the best sex scenes I’ve ever written because it delves into the needs and vulnerabilities of these characters, as well as their strong attraction to each other. These two lonely souls, who carry around a lot of guilt over past failures, find themselves in opposition to each other, and at the same time, find solace with one another. Their struggle to heal and find peace with each other and with themselves is, I believe, one of tenderest stories I’ve written.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>What is the historical setting for this book?</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Fugitive Hearts takes place in 1873, during a period of transition, when the country fell into an economic depression and the Katy Railroad experienced numerous business failures, mostly due to the greedy, unethical people in charge. This book shifts its focus to the Henry’s sister Claire and the sheriff in Parsons, both of whom appeared in <i>A Dangerous Passion</i>. Another character who played a small role in that book, an outlaw named Jasper Byrnes, becomes more important in this book for reasons I can’t tell you without spoilers. Historically, this is the period when train robberies started in earnest—spurred on by a combination of the toxic effects of post-war violence and economic pressures. But’s it’s not only the outlaws who are crooked! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>After this, will you write more books in the series?</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m currently working on book five, <i>Lawless Hearts</i>. It basically picks up where Fugitive Hearts leaves off. Right now, I envision six books in this series altogether. If readers want more, I’ll probably write more!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Steam! Romance and Rails New Edition. More adventure. More suspense. More romance. In a series you don’t want to miss. <a href="http://www.eeburke.com">www.eeburke.com</a></b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GHqtjcsUnNw/YNZLTEl8mKI/AAAAAAAAHss/hwQbS8_eH9wcFrHfd1MJFsOyGZfh0L8awCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/vidbanner3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GHqtjcsUnNw/YNZLTEl8mKI/AAAAAAAAHss/hwQbS8_eH9wcFrHfd1MJFsOyGZfh0L8awCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/vidbanner3.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: large; text-align: left;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: large; text-align: left;">A theme running through Fugitive Hearts is second chances. For the main characters, Claire and Frank, the orphan Billy, even the outlaw Jasper. Can you think of any books or movies you’ve seen lately that address this theme well? Do you enjoy "second chance" stories? Why? </b><span style="font-size: large; text-align: left;"> </span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Enter the Rafflecopter below for a chance to win one of the books in the series! Leave a comment and don’t forget to add your email.</b></span></p><div><br /></div> <a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6d2f860b274" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6d2f860b274/" id="rcwidget_ufimbigv" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-82343418727391415952021-07-16T04:00:00.087-04:002021-07-16T04:00:00.375-04:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in July <p><span style="font-size: medium;">July in Victoria is a great month for out-of-this-world looking Red Hot Pokers, simply-elegant looking White Shasta Daisies, and Victoria's iconic hanging flower baskets. I love taking photos of all of them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Here are some that I found and couldn't resist photographing during my walks around Victoria. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B_H84NpY8V4/X_wGjJKeEHI/AAAAAAAADM4/Uj7jEjsyt0Mz0KtIeQArd33vyFp5iRQAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190526_150704%2Bcrop%2BShared%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Red Hot Pokers" border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="2048" height="244" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B_H84NpY8V4/X_wGjJKeEHI/AAAAAAAADM4/Uj7jEjsyt0Mz0KtIeQArd33vyFp5iRQAQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h244/20190526_150704%2Bcrop%2BShared%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b8rlwEV0XpA/X_wRhfwOkhI/AAAAAAAADOc/RTAyH-_1JcYbu0lWGGN_3DiG7QkMtlDIACPcBGAYYCw/s2048/20200712_130742.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Red Hot Pokers" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b8rlwEV0XpA/X_wRhfwOkhI/AAAAAAAADOc/RTAyH-_1JcYbu0lWGGN_3DiG7QkMtlDIACPcBGAYYCw/w400-h225/20200712_130742.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P9OhyPQ6xLs/X_w2Qi6ZCtI/AAAAAAAADVI/b61xiG4s_8ECRigI52dEaZlSmuaPu_NxgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190708_133527.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="White Shasta Daisies" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P9OhyPQ6xLs/X_w2Qi6ZCtI/AAAAAAAADVI/b61xiG4s_8ECRigI52dEaZlSmuaPu_NxgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190708_133527.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9lsHzT9E_I/X_w6WTtTwGI/AAAAAAAADV4/zyBmENHzTIoRhnpf0AGQIahvcDGY2cPqwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20170708_134240.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9lsHzT9E_I/X_w6WTtTwGI/AAAAAAAADV4/zyBmENHzTIoRhnpf0AGQIahvcDGY2cPqwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20170708_134240.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging baskets in front of Victoria's Christ Church Cathedral</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SbqMY9Q1GX4/X_w6V4rYVKI/AAAAAAAADVw/7G_qwUFHPf45JmBcAWWjQC89o7sJrWdEwCLcBGAsYHQ/s979/20170708_134339-ResizeCC.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="734" data-original-width="979" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SbqMY9Q1GX4/X_w6V4rYVKI/AAAAAAAADVw/7G_qwUFHPf45JmBcAWWjQC89o7sJrWdEwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20170708_134339-ResizeCC.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging baskets in front of Victoria's Christ Church Cathedral<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mtzzOymB86s/X_w6WKrtYuI/AAAAAAAADV0/DLOBphRZ6pki6DWEtFw4NNSZ4y4CfvBKwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190902_171216.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Victoria's hanging flower baskets" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mtzzOymB86s/X_w6WKrtYuI/AAAAAAAADV0/DLOBphRZ6pki6DWEtFw4NNSZ4y4CfvBKwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190902_171216.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><a href="http://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/06/jacqui-nelson-friday-flowers-in-june%20%20.html" target="_blank">Click here</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: medium;"> to see my June blog post and a plethora of peony pics 🙂💐 </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span>Victoria, Canada), visit my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> pages. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. 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Special Edition: A Dangerous Passion from bestselling author E.E. Burke<h2 style="text-align: left;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4kiELHsGnvU/YM_0vUTA-AI/AAAAAAAAHp0/gjnLhzPXyV88bjAwHSmXV1ydk7_NuZoUQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1900/ADangerousPassion_Nook.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1900" data-original-width="1267" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4kiELHsGnvU/YM_0vUTA-AI/AAAAAAAAHp0/gjnLhzPXyV88bjAwHSmXV1ydk7_NuZoUQCLcBGAsYHQ/w266-h400/ADangerousPassion_Nook.jpg" width="266" /></a></div></b><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Book 3, Steam Romance and Rails</span> </b></span></p></h2><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>She writes about villains and heroes. Then meets a man who might be both.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Lucy Forbes heads West to help her father with a difficult assignment—one that pits him against a railroad executive reputed to be as treacherous as he is charming. She anticipates having adventure, even dangerous thrills, to add to the stories she writes. What she doesn’t expect is how quickly she gets caught up in a deadly mystery.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Henry Stevens is more than ambitious. He’s an intense, driven man, guided by principles forged during an impoverished childhood. His carefully laid plan for success takes a sharp turn when an investigation is launched against him. Suddenly, he is fighting for his job and his life. It’s not the ideal time to become embroiled in a tumultuous, passionate relationship, especially with an inquisitive writer, who pens tales about heroism and high ideals. Astonishingly, she expects him to live up to them. Even more surprising, he wants to.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Inspired by a true events, this fiery Western romance takes readers to the southwestern frontier in the 1870s, a time of triumphs and travails for the Katy Railroad and the driven man who stakes his future--and his life--on it. </span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="http://books2read.com/u/47kXAN" target="_blank">Buy<i> A Dangerous Passion</i></a></b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LKNm-nRzaGM/YM_0_QwUXjI/AAAAAAAAHp8/vJpryXUyr_8RNjo_aUwFgFSNVp2YqOlAwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LKNm-nRzaGM/YM_0_QwUXjI/AAAAAAAAHp8/vJpryXUyr_8RNjo_aUwFgFSNVp2YqOlAwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>E.E. Burke</b> is a bestselling author of historical fiction and romances that combine her unique blend of wit and warmth. Her books have been nominated for numerous national and regional awards, including Booksellers' Best, National Readers' Choice and Kindle Best Book. She was also a finalist in the RWA's prestigious Golden Heart® contest. Over the years, she’s been a disc jockey, a journalist and an advertising executive, before finally getting around to living the dream--writing stories readers can get lost in.</span><p></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Your main character is based on a real person. Who is the “real” Henry Stevens?</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">His name was Robert S. Stevens. They called him “Colonel Stevens.” Described as a man with “dark flashing eyes and a meticulous style of dress,” he was a larger-than-life persona in the history of the Katy Railroad. In 1870, “the Colonel” was brought in by Katy president Judge Levi Parsons to build a railroad empire that would stretch from Chicago all the way down to Mexico City. The Katy’s birth and impressive growth is largely attributable to Robert Stevens, who took a “never surrender” approach to just about everything he attempted. Many of the events in this book are based on exploits written about this fascinating man and the railroad he built.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Are there other historical events woven into the story?</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh yes. Another historical tidbit featured in A Dangerous Passion is a series of mysterious murders that took place near Parsons, Kansas. From a period stretching between 1871 and early 1873, numerous travelers through southeastern Kansas were reported missing. There were theories as to what happened to them, including one rumor that the railroads were to blame for their disappearance.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When a well-known doctor went missing, his brother, a U.S. Senator, tore through the area on a frantic search. Authorities ultimately discovered nearly a dozen bodies buried in a field behind a cabin that doubled as a wayside inn, serving meals to travelers. I won’t tell you who was to blame (spoiler!). You’ll have to read <i>A Dangerous Passion</i> to find out.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">What is your personal favorite book in this series?</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s a tough question to answer. I love all of them. Though I’ll admit that this book does hold a special place in my heart. Henry starts out in the series as what appears to be a ladder-climbing opportunist. Then we get to know him a little better and we see there’s more to him. We discover what drives him and what makes him vulnerable, and, ultimately, what makes him so lovable...and so heartbreakingly sad. He’s a man who has lost touch with himself. A proverbial Beast who has forgotten his true nature.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vGU0vUf_kxA/YNTd8g9Y3eI/AAAAAAAAHsQ/rj6E_7g2_bUa8Tts3btB8U6MUH-8V5S_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1080/Untitled%2Bdesign%2B%25286%2529.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vGU0vUf_kxA/YNTd8g9Y3eI/AAAAAAAAHsQ/rj6E_7g2_bUa8Tts3btB8U6MUH-8V5S_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h400/Untitled%2Bdesign%2B%25286%2529.png" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, and this cover! When I first started working on A Dangerous Passion, I pinned some images to my <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/380483868492383197/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> board for inspiration.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Check out the one I pinned for Henry... </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Wow. The cover model is a dead ringer, right? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">No, I didn't pay Richard Armitage to pose for my cover, but if this book ever gets made into a movie, I know who I'll be asking to play the lead role!</span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Join me on Tuesday, July 27 for facts about Book 4, Fugitive Hearts.</span></b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yAlZyRLsh10/YNZLAu1AZfI/AAAAAAAAHsk/5FiHsdT61gY03bpbvUXtjUyZrDeNZv2mwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/vidbanner3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yAlZyRLsh10/YNZLAu1AZfI/AAAAAAAAHsk/5FiHsdT61gY03bpbvUXtjUyZrDeNZv2mwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/vidbanner3.png" width="640" /></a></b></div><b style="font-size: large;">In a sense, A Dangerous Passion is a Western fairytale. The beast is transformed. A prince is revealed. It’s no coincidence that the heroine is an aspiring author whose favorite books are 19th century romantic adventures. Can you think of other books you've read that are inspired by fairy tales?</b><p></p><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Enter the Rafflecopter below for your chance to win one of the books in the series! Leave a comment and don’t forget to add your email.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6d2f860b274" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6d2f860b274/" id="rcwidget_ufimbigv" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-13461191268574217502021-07-06T01:00:00.003-04:002021-07-06T01:00:00.233-04:00Steam! New Edition: Her Bodyguard from bestselling author E.E. Burke<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6LqKqE3QBWo/YM_mAanYNyI/AAAAAAAAHo0/Gynyew4E_vk_oW_Xnog8f-atXS7-0tJAACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/HerBodyguard_Standard.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6LqKqE3QBWo/YM_mAanYNyI/AAAAAAAAHo0/Gynyew4E_vk_oW_Xnog8f-atXS7-0tJAACLcBGAsYHQ/w266-h400/HerBodyguard_Standard.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;">Book 1 in the Series Steam! Romance and Rails</span></h4><p></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>An unredeemable man. An unstoppable woman. Will love be powerful enough to save them? </b></span></h3><p><span style="font-size: medium;">As a wanted man, Buck O'Connor must guard his secrets when he returns to Kansas to see his brand of justice served. Then Fate—or a darker force—puts him in the path of a wealthy widow at an opportune moment. In the middle of a cutthroat railroad construction race to reach the Kansas border.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">For investor Amy Langford, the contest isn’t about riches. She’s driven by her father’s dreams and haunted by his death. Now, someone wants her dead. Is it rioting settlers? Underhanded competitors? She needs a protector who isn’t involved in the race, but is stronger than her enemies...and more cunning.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Buck agrees to be her bodyguard, yet he hides his real purpose for getting close to her. A purpose that could destroy the remarkable woman who is destined to redeem him.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>A thrilling Western romance </i></span><i style="font-size: large;">set against the backdrop of a no-holds-barred railroad race across Kansas in 1870. With</i><i style="font-size: large;"> twists and turns that raise the stakes all the way to the end. </i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><a href="http://books2read.com/u/bOrXGJ" target="_blank"><b>Buy Her Bodyguard</b></a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lluSLg5mbtA/YM_nGY7LM4I/AAAAAAAAHo8/2NTi89suYOkHwkaGAGN9cCFAjhJT7PwdQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lluSLg5mbtA/YM_nGY7LM4I/AAAAAAAAHo8/2NTi89suYOkHwkaGAGN9cCFAjhJT7PwdQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>E.E. Burke</b> is a bestselling author of historical fiction and romances that combine her unique blend of wit and warmth. Her books have been nominated for numerous national and regional awards, including Booksellers' Best, National Readers' Choice and Kindle Best Book. She was also a finalist in the RWA's prestigious Golden Heart® contest. Over the years, she’s been a disc jockey, a journalist and an advertising executive, before finally getting around to living the dream--writing stories readers can get lost in. Find more about her books at <a href="http://www.eeburke.com">www.eeburke.com</a>.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Why did you release a new edition of this series? And this book, in particular? </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Seriously, that cover...right? No (ha ha) It's not just that awesome cover. I also went back and tweaked and revised to make it a more compelling read. The story is essentially the same. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Would you call this a Western romance?</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Technically, historical Western romance. The story is based on true events and even features numerous historical characters. It has a strong suspense element, there's plenty of action, and the passion that ignites between Buck and Amy produces enough steam to power a train.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>What is the historical setting?</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">A great construction race between two railroads in 1870 that sparked settlers’ riots across Kansas. When I first started researching, I found surprisingly little written about this fascinating event that involved equally fascinating characters, many of whom make an appearance in my books. One, in particular, is Octave Chanute, a brilliant French-born engineer who built the first railroad bridge over the Missouri River, then went on to help the Wright Brothers learn to fly. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The actual race had all the makings of a great epic: crooked politics, underhanded investors, angry mobs, liars, cheats and killers. It wasn’t difficult to craft a tale around the colorful characters who appeared in historical accounts. My challenge was developing primary characters as compelling as the supporting cast. Once again, I dove into the history books. The fiercely independent Kansas women who championed suffrage and equal rights served as models for Amy. The tough-as-nails, troubled survivors of Missouri’s guerrilla war gave me inspiration for Buck.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I hope readers enjoy this glimpse into an exciting era in America’s history. Although that time is far behind us, it left an indelible mark that helped shape our country into who and what we are today.</span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><b>Come back next Tuesday to learn more about Book Three and the man who built the Katy Railroad. He was my inspiration for the main character, who could be a villain, a hero--or both.</b></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GymubXN1FwU/YNZJ6A1cfSI/AAAAAAAAHsc/r6H7RfCu8ZgIy_TjNMx6qpT92pzgvM9tgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/vidbanner3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GymubXN1FwU/YNZJ6A1cfSI/AAAAAAAAHsc/r6H7RfCu8ZgIy_TjNMx6qpT92pzgvM9tgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/vidbanner3.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-size: medium;">At its heart, Her Bodyguard is a redemption story. Can you think of any books you’ve read recently that featured a hero who needed redeeming? What it is about these characters that draws you to them?</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Enter the Rafflecopter below for your chance to win one of the books in the series! Leave a comment and don’t forget to add your email.</b></span></p>
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<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-81597159202451847472021-07-02T01:12:00.081-04:002021-07-02T01:12:00.501-04:00JULY 4TH RECIPE SHARE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJZb04BD5Ag/X-gpBUJ-r6I/AAAAAAAAdMc/GEJ48zHqBlcViATFCnVmO4F5VDTyVW5SACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/07%2BJuly%2BPromo-Recipe%2BShare--.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJZb04BD5Ag/X-gpBUJ-r6I/AAAAAAAAdMc/GEJ48zHqBlcViATFCnVmO4F5VDTyVW5SACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h334/07%2BJuly%2BPromo-Recipe%2BShare--.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;"><b>C.H.'s Family Favorite ~ Layered Fresh Fruit Salad</b></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Guaranteed to cool you off on even the hottest Independence Day! It's as easy as you want it to be. Simply pick out your favorite fresh fruit (pictured: blueberries, sliced kiwi, sliced strawberries and raspberries) wash them gently so as not to bruise them and let them drain in a colander. Carefully scoop out into a clear glass bowl--looks so festive when you do! Optional topping: Whipped cream - fresh of course using heavy cream and if you like a teaspoon of vanilla extract or if you absolutely need the sugary pick-me-up sift a kitchen tablespoon of confectioner's sugar over the cream you've just whipped and fold it in. Dollop on top, of serve on the side. Enjoy!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyXnGNaY5vA/YA4kMOlsCYI/AAAAAAAAIQM/4cksv6FANbYaxDwQWnOywRmUiz9JD63_wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/08_14_14%2Bpretty%2Bfruit%2Bsalad.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyXnGNaY5vA/YA4kMOlsCYI/AAAAAAAAIQM/4cksv6FANbYaxDwQWnOywRmUiz9JD63_wCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/08_14_14%2Bpretty%2Bfruit%2Bsalad.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><b><span style="color: red; font-family: helvetica;">Amanda</span></b><p></p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The fourth, when last we celebrated with family and friends, is usually spent at a dear
friend’s house watching the fireworks from their deck. Before that, for many
years we would take a picnic supper and blanket and sit in the lawn of the
State capitol and watch the Symphony Pops Concert. So, recipes have been quite
varied over the years. One of my favorites is a simple summer salad given to me by my
aunt in Chicago. It has become a family favorite and is included in <b>A Taste
of Gratitude & Joy, put out in 2020 </b>by C.H. Admirand and myself. (shameless
plug!)<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Hdt2bN3AWc/XNDME30rRuI/AAAAAAAAHSE/RjngqxSixcgwfv58YJA0Rn98pMFP7Vu0gCPcBGAYYCw/s6387/Asset-14Divider.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="6387" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Hdt2bN3AWc/XNDME30rRuI/AAAAAAAAHSE/RjngqxSixcgwfv58YJA0Rn98pMFP7Vu0gCPcBGAYYCw/s320/Asset-14Divider.png" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Taffy
Apple Salad<br /><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Ingredients:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B087QPGLR7/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i24"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="190" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kVi7sFWMD_E/YBA7E_fOuVI/AAAAAAAAIfE/iSsYfd16yCI8BLI3iK4VxXLJ_6vRFou9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w286-h190/79528-144.jpg" width="286" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B087QPGLR7/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i24">Amazon</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">1 can (16-20
ounce) drained, crushed pineapple<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">3 large
Granny Smith Apples (cored and cut into bite-size chunks)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">2-3 handfuls
of Spanish peanuts<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">3- King-size
Snicker candy bars (cut into bite size pieces)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">1 medium
container of Cool Whip<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Directions:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Mix and
serve. Doubtful there will be leftovers! Keep refrigerated until served!<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /></div><div><br /></div>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-38755992665876200982021-06-29T01:00:00.002-04:002021-06-30T14:51:28.139-04:00Steam! New Release: Redbird from bestselling author E.E. Burke<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9e2S1lMWnFU/YM_Mqk1OV2I/AAAAAAAAHoY/cKUzpwSmCTAUCBetyxA12PAJyreSbn2JQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1900/Redbird_Nook.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1900" data-original-width="1267" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9e2S1lMWnFU/YM_Mqk1OV2I/AAAAAAAAHoY/cKUzpwSmCTAUCBetyxA12PAJyreSbn2JQCLcBGAsYHQ/w266-h400/Redbird_Nook.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">New Release </span></h2><p></p><h4><span style="font-size: medium;">A rich, white heiress. A Cherokee outlaw. They have nothing in common except a desire for peace—and each other.</span></h4><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Railroad heiress Kate Parsons is worth more than an inheritance, and she intends to prove it by resolving a land dispute between the Katy Railroad and the Cherokee Nation. Instead, she gets abducted by outlaws. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jake Colston has something to prove, too, which is why he breaks into a private railcar in a scheme to save his family’s land. Instead, the peace-loving Cherokee ends up in possession of a white woman whose spirit is as bold as her red hair. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">His decision to abduct her is made with the best intentions, but it puts into motion a series of consequences that force Jake into a deadly confrontation he would do anything to avoid. Anything, except risk the life of the woman he calls Redbird. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>A captivating, cross-cultural love story inspired by a legend and based on true events. This story was originally released as a novella under the title Kate's Outlaw. It has been updated and expanded in a new edition for the series, Steam! Romance and Rails. </i></span></p><p><a href="http://books2read.com/u/3R8Oaj" target="_blank"><b>Buy <i>Redbird</i> today</b></a><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-50hV6JBpRG8/YM_NUAVLzjI/AAAAAAAAHog/6X0xzrPHyTsjug9jlWGFCbHezRIuU47YQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-50hV6JBpRG8/YM_NUAVLzjI/AAAAAAAAHog/6X0xzrPHyTsjug9jlWGFCbHezRIuU47YQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/E.E.%2BBurke2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>E.E. Burke</b> is a bestselling author of historical fiction and romances that combine her unique blend of wit and warmth. Her books have been nominated for numerous national and regional awards, including Booksellers' Best, National Readers' Choice and Kindle Best Book. She was also a finalist in the RWA's prestigious Golden Heart® contest. Over the years, she’s been a disc jockey, a journalist and an advertising executive, before finally getting around to living the dream--writing stories readers can get lost in.</span><div><p></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Why did you decide to expand and update this book?</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I believed the story deserved it. When I first wrote it as a novella, it fit within a three-part anthology that I'd written with two other authors. I always felt that this book needed to be expanded to fit with the rest of the series. I added extra scenes to give readers insight into the main characters, as well as the secondary characters who become important in future books.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Tell us about the legend that inspired Redbird.</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's an old Cherokee legend about the daughter of the sun (called Redbird). Thematically, the story is about death and rebirth, which fit well with the overall theme of my novel. The main character in the book, Jake Colston, has had a vision that leads him to associate Kate with a legendary figure called Redbird. I can't tell you more without spoilers, but the way their relationship develops as a result of Jake's obsession with Redbird is one of the things I love most about this book.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">What is the historical setting for Redbird?</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">A standoff in 1870 between between the Cherokee Nation and Katy Railroad about land rights--specifically, government-awarded land grants. The Cherokee Nation filed a lawsuit that challenged the land grants based on sovereignty. Specifically, the U.S. government's right to give away their land. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>In addition, the Cherokee people disliked and distrusted the railroads. They didn't want one passing through their nation, bringing in more white immigrants. </span>Through this story, I strive to present a perspective that often gets lost in our glorification of Western expansion. Its central theme is hope--for peace, understanding, respect, and, ultimately, a sense of unity despite our differences.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><b>Come back next week for fun facts about book 1, Her Bodyguard. </b></span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5zQxBsndBXA/YNZNZg5nOMI/AAAAAAAAHs0/eZY8Njg9Ll42ayzEPdNLPP8wgZ7GDm53gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/vidbanner3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5zQxBsndBXA/YNZNZg5nOMI/AAAAAAAAHs0/eZY8Njg9Ll42ayzEPdNLPP8wgZ7GDm53gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/vidbanner3.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I love reading about Native American legends, especially origin stories. Do you have any favorite legends that you'd like to see incorporated into a book?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Enter the Rafflecopter below for your chance to win one of the books in the series! Leave a comment and don't forget to add your email.</span></b></span></p></div>
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<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>E.E.Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14761484300868762118noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-30265267997870732222021-06-18T04:00:00.109-04:002021-06-18T12:08:08.656-04:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in June<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Peonies are the flowers that remind me the most of being a kid on the farm in the prairie province of Alberta. I love the peony's smell and its most common (at least to me) full pink variety. But I also love seeing the many new-to-me colors and shapes where I currently live on Canada's pacific southwest coast. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Here are some of the peony photos I've taken during my walks around my neighborhood. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-svyJRBh9EZk/X_wIaji4V4I/AAAAAAAADNE/GyqVSRdxk9IF_lJKEgbgEvV0UpzOoDV8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190530_131420.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Red Peony" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-svyJRBh9EZk/X_wIaji4V4I/AAAAAAAADNE/GyqVSRdxk9IF_lJKEgbgEvV0UpzOoDV8gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190530_131420.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-19ixQYu-3Fs/X_wM45oiFsI/AAAAAAAADN8/z3SQZhL8D4wjX6KMrS1PFg8OU5umpX8NgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2010/20190611_132614%2Bcrop%2BIN%2Bcopy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="White Peonies" border="0" data-original-height="1367" data-original-width="2010" height="272" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-19ixQYu-3Fs/X_wM45oiFsI/AAAAAAAADN8/z3SQZhL8D4wjX6KMrS1PFg8OU5umpX8NgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h272/20190611_132614%2Bcrop%2BIN%2Bcopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-43y1tlrQjfE/X_wI1NI-YFI/AAAAAAAADNM/HAhil9cWNVoyVa6d0aJ9VovMYMPj9fKbQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190530_133103.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink Peonies" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-43y1tlrQjfE/X_wI1NI-YFI/AAAAAAAADNM/HAhil9cWNVoyVa6d0aJ9VovMYMPj9fKbQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190530_133103.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9oDlmnO7mes/X_wI1KIAgMI/AAAAAAAADNQ/LvI4_MO2VvUWtrv4aecEkAjdFMwccjAVwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190530_133100.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="White and pink Peonies" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9oDlmnO7mes/X_wI1KIAgMI/AAAAAAAADNQ/LvI4_MO2VvUWtrv4aecEkAjdFMwccjAVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190530_133100.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-Pnev4MwTg/X_wNn05Hk8I/AAAAAAAADOI/3-Q3105F8OIvj8mbh4shrrPLATRTQRDGwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1926/20200601_184245%2BOn%2BVancouver%2BStreet%2Bcopy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pink Peonies with white center" border="0" data-original-height="1146" data-original-width="1926" height="238" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-Pnev4MwTg/X_wNn05Hk8I/AAAAAAAADOI/3-Q3105F8OIvj8mbh4shrrPLATRTQRDGwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h238/20200601_184245%2BOn%2BVancouver%2BStreet%2Bcopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rsaAa739G7g/X_wJGZK4P1I/AAAAAAAADNc/ydcLX1iWYLA1QHqzDyQM3OSCANrTnJBiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190530_133115%2BBEST.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Coral pink Peony" border="0" data-original-height="1286" data-original-width="2048" height="251" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rsaAa739G7g/X_wJGZK4P1I/AAAAAAAADNc/ydcLX1iWYLA1QHqzDyQM3OSCANrTnJBiQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h251/20190530_133115%2BBEST.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lRXO0EUJRMI/X_wOXNl0d9I/AAAAAAAADOQ/jKWqp0Xhz5I9xT86EMgHDNKtl49XcOOaACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190616_124518.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="What I like to think of as "full pink" peony" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lRXO0EUJRMI/X_wOXNl0d9I/AAAAAAAADOQ/jKWqp0Xhz5I9xT86EMgHDNKtl49XcOOaACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20190616_124518.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I like to think of as a "full pink" peony :) </td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><a href="http://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/01/jacqui-nelson-friday-flowers-in-may.html" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see my May blog post and my Iris pics 🙂💐 </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span>Victoria, Canada), visit my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> pages. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a> </div></div><br />Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-3679605672193966762021-06-04T01:00:00.222-04:002021-06-05T18:30:16.404-04:00WHAT'S ON YOUR MUG?<p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"> <a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KD0eN_RbiPE/X-gdnRYGeXI/AAAAAAAAdMM/O4n2VrdlQLkbgDW6R7O9ufg5aBSHeacMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KD0eN_RbiPE/X-gdnRYGeXI/AAAAAAAAdMM/O4n2VrdlQLkbgDW6R7O9ufg5aBSHeacMwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h334/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="640" /></a><br style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I totally stole this idea from our own Regan Black. Follow her on Instagram and you'll get mug after mug of inspiration!! BEGIN is a great mug for writers. Maybe for coffee drinkers everywhere. We're sharing pictures of a favorite mug we own today. You can share yours on the <a href="http://bit.ly/GLIAS_onFB" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" target="_blank">Get Lost in a Story Facebook page</a> or on the <a href="http://bit.ly/GLIAS_ReaderSpot" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" target="_blank">Reader's Spot group page</a>. Extra prizes will be awarded. Come and visit us.</span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cT6JsI0xUKQ/X-giomTLILI/AAAAAAAAdMU/QqXy05E4BxwYA4vGz4Al4ZE42WGKoxNgwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cT6JsI0xUKQ/X-giomTLILI/AAAAAAAAdMU/QqXy05E4BxwYA4vGz4Al4ZE42WGKoxNgwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h209/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--Angi.jpg" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);" width="400" /></a></div><div style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I think I have a theme. Three mugs were given to me and I bought the fourth. I AM a very proud Dog Mom who doesn't drink coffee. And I adore Hallmark Christmas movies, I keep them on my DVR all year. I am always smiling after I watch one. And oh my goodness if you add a dog to the story I'm good for a week !! </span></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1reeoWfXNg/X-t8ZodxkAI/AAAAAAAADI8/7zQCXRLdss0IElfy2vGGsKjF3ddcmUXZgCLcBGAsYHQ/s940/GLIAS-Jacqui-WhatsOnYourMug-WithName-v2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="940" height="260" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1reeoWfXNg/X-t8ZodxkAI/AAAAAAAADI8/7zQCXRLdss0IElfy2vGGsKjF3ddcmUXZgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h260/GLIAS-Jacqui-WhatsOnYourMug-WithName-v2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’ve always been obsessed with flowers and in the last few years I’ve become obsessed with Corgis (and hope to one day share my home with a couple), so these mugs are some of my favorites. I bought the “Sploot Happens,” “Got Corgi?” and “Fluffy Butt” mugs from “My Dog is My Copilot” (aka Tracy) on Etsy. And I received the Corgi/Sushi mug this Christmas from my nephew. A brilliant addition because sushi is a favorite as well! </span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="209" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nzuJoeshkPk/X-vXC6sG7bI/AAAAAAAAdUs/vSUHTpwBPUAaBJ8fQG7DUfH1yl9nyxKNACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h209/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--Amanda.jpg" width="400" /></div><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: 14pt;">Over the
years we’ve amassed a great many mugs from friends and family-holidays,
birthdays, anniversaries, trips, and more. In this picture is a sampling of
each of those moments, those memories. From left to right—the snowman mug, lots
of hot chocolate and coffee during holidays and winter nights. They match the
snowman dinnerware that we’ve used for countless Christmas dinners. The
ironstone mug from Betty’s Pies is some of the sweetest memories of lake shore
trips to Grand Superior Lodge. If you’re up that way, stop in at Betty’s and
try the many fabulous homemade pies with a generous mug of fresh coffee! Next
is the mug I received this Christmas from my grandsons, ‘nuf said, other than
what the cup states, “Blessed!” The brown mug is special as it was made for me
by my artist/teacher daughter-in-law. It sits on my office desk, reminding me
of how a lump of clay can be molded with patience and tenacity into something
exquisitely beautiful! And the ornate china cup and saucer is one of many given
to various grandchildren and great-grandchildren when my grandmother passed.
Her example of humility, kindness, and resilience peppered with a wicked humor
has been my inspiration and model as long as I can remember. In fact, my pen
name of McIntyre is derived grandmother’s maiden name.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zRBTSMOmFRU/YCAQY7x33fI/AAAAAAAAd5A/689cqP4Ji3sxvPqAJOvjydGLwAI1Y_5-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--CH.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="210" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zRBTSMOmFRU/YCAQY7x33fI/AAAAAAAAd5A/689cqP4Ji3sxvPqAJOvjydGLwAI1Y_5-gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h210/06%2BJune%2BPromo-What%2527sOnYourMug--CH.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">My favorite mugs are mugs...sort of <g> L to R: one of my great grandmother's demitasse cups (without the saucer), mini green and white cup and saucer, a mini demitasse cup (not sure who it belonged to as a little girl...probably my grandmother who loved her "coffee-tea.", in the back L to R my favorite holly Christmas mug (which has been cracked for 10 years...sadness) and a new favorite a pretty sweet pea mug from one of my dear friends. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Re69wpCXpY8/YLl0_ov7hEI/AAAAAAAAEH8/nSgFlNds3ecko4bUmd4Traad0MRiR5Z_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1339/Mugs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="1339" height="206" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Re69wpCXpY8/YLl0_ov7hEI/AAAAAAAAEH8/nSgFlNds3ecko4bUmd4Traad0MRiR5Z_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h206/Mugs.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>My husband and I have a problem collecting T-shirts. In fact, we have so many they don't fit in our drawers and live in piles on a dresser. The only thing that has to do with mugs, is that I have a problem collecting them as well. I've given more mugs and cups to Goodwill than I can count. I don't even buy most of them for myself--people love to give mugs! So, the ones I've kept are ones that really mean something fun to me. The ones here span a lot of history. Eeyore came from a reader and is perfect for THOSE days. Nanosaurus in the back was given to me by my granddaughter who will, I have no doubt, always be a dinosaur expert! "I AM smiling," came from Alaska, where we lived for three years and fell in love with all things 49th State. The Yellow Submarine mug is essential to this Beatles freak -- and has window circles that clear up and reveal John, Paul, George and Ringo when the mug is filled with hot water. The blue and white mug reads "Moin moin," which is they way people say "good morning" and "hi" in far northern Germany--another place we lived two different times for a year each time. Finally, the funny little teacup is from my wonderful spunky grandmother whom I idolized. The woman is "Little Nell" and the funky man's face is a complete mystery. I'm thinking he's an author -- but I really have no idea, but Grandma thought things like this were funny, so I love this quirky cup! So--this is a smattering of my mug and cup collection. They're random choices (I adore random) and each brings up a wonderful memory or time in my life!<p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: center;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>WIN AN INSPIRATIONAL MUG !!</i></b></span></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: center;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>Leave a comment here and on our Facebook or Readers' Spot to be entered to win an inspirational mug. </i></b></span></p><p style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); text-align: center;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">Don't forget to share your mug on the </span><a href="http://bit.ly/GLIAS_onFB" rel="nofollow" style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;" target="_blank">Get Lost in a Story Facebook page</a><span style="color: black; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"> or on the </span><a href="http://bit.ly/GLIAS_ReaderSpot" rel="nofollow" style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;" target="_blank">Reader's Spot group page</a><span style="color: black; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">. Extra prizes will be awarded. Come and visit us.</span></span></p>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-19068187546434250162021-06-02T01:00:00.024-04:002021-06-02T01:00:00.372-04:00THROUGH MY LENS<p> More Bluebonnets & Wildflowers</p><p>Ennis Bluebonnet Trail, 2021</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bMipWBxvYH0/YLZ1HgJvY_I/AAAAAAAAePM/hK6FkEX6P6gWDGxXMOVDSr9YvJgLNfxBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2673/20210413_143555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="2673" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bMipWBxvYH0/YLZ1HgJvY_I/AAAAAAAAePM/hK6FkEX6P6gWDGxXMOVDSr9YvJgLNfxBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210413_143555.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TtnXP3OROmg/YLZ1H8vgPCI/AAAAAAAAePQ/4jPE4Cf5bmY6eVz3oFp-i4c2P45VjekkwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2673/20210413_145650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="2673" height="282" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TtnXP3OROmg/YLZ1H8vgPCI/AAAAAAAAePQ/4jPE4Cf5bmY6eVz3oFp-i4c2P45VjekkwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h282/20210413_145650.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_9KXo-DR7I4/YLZ1HhG4-QI/AAAAAAAAePI/DI2pKYyBXMM782pXldOj6idTzsdA_aV3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2673/20210413_143734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2673" data-original-width="1176" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_9KXo-DR7I4/YLZ1HhG4-QI/AAAAAAAAePI/DI2pKYyBXMM782pXldOj6idTzsdA_aV3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210413_143734.jpg" /></a></div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gO1ffzMu_WY/YLZ1Ih8QlmI/AAAAAAAAePU/YM63TzXjG-c6r_nXKJE2NZh2RzJmDpAtwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2673/20210413_150154_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JCnM6WvkC0c/YLZ1QiywJmI/AAAAAAAAeQY/zmd4cige0YUwE9bQ0g5BiGPfyQ3kXeJcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4608/IMG_0153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JCnM6WvkC0c/YLZ1QiywJmI/AAAAAAAAeQY/zmd4cige0YUwE9bQ0g5BiGPfyQ3kXeJcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0153.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RjuPR2tTG8Q/YLZ1RGcq7_I/AAAAAAAAeQc/SazlK5ZJHZ4AIygrR4Loy1u0cOptXpvtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s4608/IMG_0208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RjuPR2tTG8Q/YLZ1RGcq7_I/AAAAAAAAeQc/SazlK5ZJHZ4AIygrR4Loy1u0cOptXpvtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0208.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EPMemjHQLGI/YLZ1R4FUy6I/AAAAAAAAeQg/I43Y-dD33MM14928L0ZUiUHLACKx9w1tQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4608/IMG_0213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EPMemjHQLGI/YLZ1R4FUy6I/AAAAAAAAeQg/I43Y-dD33MM14928L0ZUiUHLACKx9w1tQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_0213.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-90599887526566849532021-05-21T04:00:00.077-04:002021-06-18T12:05:07.530-04:00Jacqui’s Friday Flowers in May<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Last year I finally went for a walk at the right time to see the fantastic Iris patch in Victoria's Government House Gardens. I discovered one really has to time it right to get the best photos of these Irises -- and that time is May. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But I did find some lovely white Irises (see the last photo in the batch below) just a couple blocks from my home in April. So I will have to keep a lookout for Irises everywhere. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacqui ❤️ 💐</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7u6-KgJMu9I/X_wU2jED8bI/AAAAAAAADPA/7CiB1NIn_8o614ZkerII5QVra92eIMYtwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200507_130519%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7u6-KgJMu9I/X_wU2jED8bI/AAAAAAAADPA/7CiB1NIn_8o614ZkerII5QVra92eIMYtwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200507_130519%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fg1p_sOM_-8/X_wU3AQowpI/AAAAAAAADPI/FVUVWRnyc5oawneP1vKPg332S2jgGGkwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200526_084335%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fg1p_sOM_-8/X_wU3AQowpI/AAAAAAAADPI/FVUVWRnyc5oawneP1vKPg332S2jgGGkwQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200526_084335%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8AKQISxud9g/X_wU2vzpuEI/AAAAAAAADPE/l4QuEVrSBYEbACh_i2mNWkR4Y4iS_BpnACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200512_084440%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8AKQISxud9g/X_wU2vzpuEI/AAAAAAAADPE/l4QuEVrSBYEbACh_i2mNWkR4Y4iS_BpnACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20200512_084440%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enhM67JiDYI/X_wU3fMtwpI/AAAAAAAADPM/FLXmvC0Tu7AOjUZglJ3W3TzE1wsBdnD8wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1904/20200526_084612%2Bcopy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1904" height="241" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enhM67JiDYI/X_wU3fMtwpI/AAAAAAAADPM/FLXmvC0Tu7AOjUZglJ3W3TzE1wsBdnD8wCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h241/20200526_084612%2Bcopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cwW7xFwMw0M/X_wU3VXKqSI/AAAAAAAADPQ/3jK0VOaylKk3zoCZ9Tl82qD_PJgGB7i8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1736/20200526_084657%2Bcopy%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1148" data-original-width="1736" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cwW7xFwMw0M/X_wU3VXKqSI/AAAAAAAADPQ/3jK0VOaylKk3zoCZ9Tl82qD_PJgGB7i8gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h265/20200526_084657%2Bcopy%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QKHnj-47ybY/X_wU3vD76QI/AAAAAAAADPU/xtvPF-OEcoANo7B_L0Uw6nhkpFnh9228ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1824/20200526_084911%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1824" height="253" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QKHnj-47ybY/X_wU3vD76QI/AAAAAAAADPU/xtvPF-OEcoANo7B_L0Uw6nhkpFnh9228ACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h253/20200526_084911%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aZrtfABSwbs/X_wU30TbNWI/AAAAAAAADPc/QuqaeOjbUrEbiv8yWyq5GO4VCkgjy1ycgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2014/20200601_182340%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Irises" border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="2014" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aZrtfABSwbs/X_wU30TbNWI/AAAAAAAADPc/QuqaeOjbUrEbiv8yWyq5GO4VCkgjy1ycgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h213/20200601_182340%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-12jkyouy6z8/X_wU2p5LVNI/AAAAAAAADO8/zGyleBCh0SIme-J_mXfewEEZ751-naVHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1730/20200419_134258%2BFB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="White Irises found in April" border="0" data-original-height="1062" data-original-width="1730" height="245" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-12jkyouy6z8/X_wU2p5LVNI/AAAAAAAADO8/zGyleBCh0SIme-J_mXfewEEZ751-naVHgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h245/20200419_134258%2BFB.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Irises found in April</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><a href="http://getlostinastory.blogspot.com/2021/01/jacqui-nelson-friday-flowers-in-april.html" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see my April blog post & my Spanish Bluebells & Camas pics 🙂💐 </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To see more of my flower pictures (during the February to October flower season in </span>Victoria, Canada), visit my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JacquiNelsonAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jacquinelsonauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> pages. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ * ~ </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img alt="Jacqui Nelson - Author Picture" border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GjbtxLFY7hI/W0_hC4nmUWI/AAAAAAAAAzE/P8RqFquc_B8_SYAgKq_EvR7y1fRdo9lCwCPcBGAYYCw/s200/jacquinelson-authorphoto-2018.jpg" title="" width="200" /></i></a><i style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"></i></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>Fall in love with a new Old West </b>where the men are steadfast & the women are adventurous. I love writing stories about women who are Wild West scouts, spies, cardsharps, wilderness guides, trick-riding superstars, and more. </span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;">Read an excerpt from all of my books at</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/my-books/" style="background-color: white; color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/my-books</a></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Follow me on Amazon: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.amazon.com/author/jacquinelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">BookBub: <a href="http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.bookbub.com/authors/jacqui-nelson</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Goodreads: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson" style="color: #954f72;" target="_blank">www.goodreads.com/JacquiNelson</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4f4f4f; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Join my newsletter & read <i>Rescuing Raven</i> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">my Deadwood 1876 gold-rush story) </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">for FREE at </span><a href="https://jacquinelson.com/download-my-free-read/" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;" target="_blank">JacquiNelson.com/download-my-free-read</a> </div></div>Jacqui Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12793508141294935459noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-8994107303361225232021-05-09T08:46:00.000-04:002021-05-09T08:46:31.474-04:00Mom Moments-Celebrating May 9-Mother's Day!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6vGHfl5e0r0/YGHdAn12K2I/AAAAAAAAIl0/CATRm_ReG5snwmOuqck8FJU3vhJvUYyKACLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/baby-37519_1280.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1044" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6vGHfl5e0r0/YGHdAn12K2I/AAAAAAAAIl0/CATRm_ReG5snwmOuqck8FJU3vhJvUYyKACLcBGAsYHQ/w163-h200/baby-37519_1280.png" width="163" /></span></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Today we celebrate the MOM MOMENTS. Maybe it's a special memory of your mom, step-mom, grandmother, or aunt. Maybe a lesson learned, a cherished recipe, or being mom to a special pet. Share with us your "moment"- </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="80" data-original-width="579" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ORJIT9yS5gw/WH0QGgQgrEI/AAAAAAAAFKc/v7NyM54NiWApcf_DJV874RKQlWDcpVS6gCPcBGAYYCw/s320/flowerbar02.gif" width="320" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b>AMANDA</b></span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt;">My kids tease me about crying. They know my heart is
happy whenever we are all together. It’s become a game of sorts, to see what gift
can make mom cry. Those range from freshly plucked dandelion bouquets, handmade
gifts, seeing my kids grow from childhood to adults and all the cherished
memories we’ve made as a family.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">I went straight into the workforce from high school, (no
college) married three years later, and we both worked to put hubby through medical
school. We started a family, dealt with cancer and had our share of obstacles
and joys.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">I did not begin my writing career in earnest until
years later, when after my third birth (twins) I chose to be a stay-at-home mom
(and all the volunteer work that involves) I wrote a weekly newspaper column on
the importance of the Fine Arts. (near and dear to my heart) and bottom line, consider
myself a renaissance woman, of sorts.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Fast forward several years to Mother’s Day. Joyous at
having my family around me, I had not expected the “mom moment” my twin sons
gave me when I was honored with an engraved brick (aka Pamela J Johnson) on the Plaza of Heroines in
front of the Carrie Chapman Catt Center for Women and Politics on the campus of Iowa State University.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-evsRsoT4oZQ/YGuTmo1ij7I/AAAAAAAAImY/L7WRx6e9U44Sj9IOcDQp5tDtc9P_Tlu8ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/14629.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-evsRsoT4oZQ/YGuTmo1ij7I/AAAAAAAAImY/L7WRx6e9U44Sj9IOcDQp5tDtc9P_Tlu8ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/14629.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">With it came
letters from my adult twin sons explaining why they felt I deserved this honor. Please indulge then, my "mom moment while I share in brief what they said...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> “We wouldn’t be the people we are today without
your influence. While “thank you “barely touches on my gratitude, it’s one way
to say <i>I love you</i>.” Add to that- “You’re a mother, a cheerleader, a counselor,
a mentor, a guide, an author, a banker, and an inspiration, just to name a few
of your roles."<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Heck yeah, I cried. Still do, every time my joy overflows, the waterworks start. And they all giggle, but with
the knowledge that it's my love and gratitude <i>for them </i>that makes it happen.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b>ANGI</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zwDODLKMBrk/YJQ6-f3eeGI/AAAAAAAAeOM/rircyvith7UbIg7CdYC0xj40vlqv84hQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4608/IMG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zwDODLKMBrk/YJQ6-f3eeGI/AAAAAAAAeOM/rircyvith7UbIg7CdYC0xj40vlqv84hQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My mom loves to travel as much as I do. Back in the 90s, she and her friends would take a week in the spring and take a gazillion pictures of wildflowers (especially bluebonnets). I didn't totally get it. Thinking back it's probably because my life was filled with three kids and everything they needed to do. I would have loved to go to a beach and just sit (still do--favorite destination). Now, I look forward to my drives with Tim or friends to check out bluebonnet season. You've seen the pictures on my #ThroughMyLens posts. I definitely learned my passion for wildflowers from my mom. It's a soothing past time to hunt for the perfect picture. It's also a time of renewing my soul. I'll never be able to look at bluebonnets without thinking of my mom.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lwixNmncbts/YJQ9q4yXmwI/AAAAAAAAeOU/2tM3-lYHQYMrH_WaQWggKTiRnZIaKV4TgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2673/20210506_135624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="2673" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lwixNmncbts/YJQ9q4yXmwI/AAAAAAAAeOU/2tM3-lYHQYMrH_WaQWggKTiRnZIaKV4TgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210506_135624.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br />It's been a while since my mom stole a week or two to paint in the hill country. But there are plenty of paintings from that time. One is hanging on my entry wall. </span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">My mom is 81 now (she's the one in the middle) and it's my privilege to take her to see wildflowers every spring. I love the gaps of pure joy when we top a hill and it's covered with colorful sprigs. Even after all these years, she and her friends (and me) are still in awe of God's handiwork.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b>LIZBETH</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Mother's Day has always been special to me. I know many people look at it as a made-up holiday for greeting card companies, but I delight every year in celebrating all the moms in my family. I'm one of the extremely lucky ones to be gettin' on in years myself but still have my mom with me. Not only is she still around at age 92, but she lives in her own townhome, is completely mentally with it (moreso than I am many days!), is still always available to chat about family, worries, politics, happy things, whatever. She has a Facebook page, is as easy to reach with a text as she is with a phone call, loves to share pictures, chat with her great-grandkids via Facetime or Messenger and, to top it off, just finished her second novel--a darling Hallmark-y romance! <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xVexM1jFXC0/YJB3h77ZsFI/AAAAAAAAEGw/HugZe4usJ3MQGOctFOV979S5C_Kv_tZjwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/DSC_0005.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="925" data-original-width="1200" height="154" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xVexM1jFXC0/YJB3h77ZsFI/AAAAAAAAEGw/HugZe4usJ3MQGOctFOV979S5C_Kv_tZjwCLcBGAsYHQ/w200-h154/DSC_0005.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with Mom pre-Covid<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">She is still teaching all the younger moms in her family (me, and all her granddaughters and even some nieces) how to be strong, smart, active women who pass down wisdom and fun to their children. She certainly still teaches me how to be gracious, patient, understanding, and loving, although I am honestly still learning. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">My mom could be here another 10 years or leave us much sooner (I hope it's the former!) Either way, I am grateful for all she's taught us and still gives us and I'm more than happy to have a day when I can celebrate her specifically for being just the best mom! <br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b style="color: #800180;">E.E. Burke</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #800180;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H8f7sRNUfWo/YJGEgM5yvJI/AAAAAAAAHiA/6hs64PfhLtg_7o9O1x7mYoNMqX2ur42gACLcBGAsYHQ/s6000/8E55A36F-019C-4C87-95C7-54D676AED01B.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H8f7sRNUfWo/YJGEgM5yvJI/AAAAAAAAHiA/6hs64PfhLtg_7o9O1x7mYoNMqX2ur42gACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/8E55A36F-019C-4C87-95C7-54D676AED01B.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot lately. Actually, I’ve been with her 24x7 for the past two weeks while she’s going through hospitalizations for serious heart problems. She’s never been really sick like this before. She was a nurse for 40 years and has lived a very full and eventful life with lots of energy for helping people, but now she needs help. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">She hates that. I would, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Mom feels much better when she can do something versus sit around do nothing. She’s also shaken because her natural tendency to step in and fix things isn’t much help. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s all right, I tell her. I’m right there, picking up where she left off. I’m a fixer. Yes, I get that my mother. I’m also a helper, surprisingly to me. I don’t feel very much like a helper most days, but when someone needs me, I jump in with both feet. For me, it’s less about helping and more about “fixing things.”</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Over the course of my life, there are things about my mom that really bugged me. I didn’t want to carry those things over in my life, but low and behold, there they are. Now I’m realizing that we take the bad with the good. Not that she’s bad or does bad things, but if you are a daughter, you know what I mean about your mom’s annoying habits. I picked up some of them. I also picked her many of her good qualities, and for that, I will always be grateful. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WhWvihM3680/YJGE0t73nJI/AAAAAAAAHiI/Ia3utzBtQIQjWHvAs9wgKY89lHvkTqGiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/47B9CC9D-7F07-44A1-950B-D7F29F10FA86.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1624" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WhWvihM3680/YJGE0t73nJI/AAAAAAAAHiI/Ia3utzBtQIQjWHvAs9wgKY89lHvkTqGiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/47B9CC9D-7F07-44A1-950B-D7F29F10FA86.jpeg" /></a></div><br />I am beyond grateful for my mother. I’ve been a mother for 34 years, and this past year, I had the pleasure of seeing my eldest daughter become a mother. She’s doing an amazing job. If I had anything to do with it, it’s only because I was taught well about what it means to mother. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">BTW, Nana is utterly charmed and devoted to her little buddy, Henry. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Happy Mother’s Day, mom. I love you so much and I cherish every single precious moment we can spend together.</span></div><div style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-weight: 400;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b>JACQUI</b></span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-weight: 400;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mxs1q0LLgDY/YJOiuhzRWFI/AAAAAAAADhU/sgKnC5DsefYHLcxa_nP9tH70opgt0ruLwCLcBGAsYHQ/Jacqui%2527s%2BMom-InHerVictoriaGarden.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mxs1q0LLgDY/YJOiuhzRWFI/AAAAAAAADhU/sgKnC5DsefYHLcxa_nP9tH70opgt0ruLwCLcBGAsYHQ/Jacqui%2527s%2BMom-InHerVictoriaGarden.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 18.6667px;">My mom loved her garden. My childhood is full of memories of her spending every day (when the ground wasn't covered in snow) in her garden and also teaching me a fair bit about gardening. If only I could remember it all! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">This picture was taken the day before her birthday when she turned 85. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tgYDLf0H8W4/YJOi35fyn3I/AAAAAAAADhY/pPekRkekq7Aw6xvZUCKXfjxJhHM4p5PyACLcBGAsYHQ/JacquiAndHerMom.JPG" style="clear: right; display: inline; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1274" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tgYDLf0H8W4/YJOi35fyn3I/AAAAAAAADhY/pPekRkekq7Aw6xvZUCKXfjxJhHM4p5PyACLcBGAsYHQ/JacquiAndHerMom.JPG" width="219" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 18.6667px;">Even in my mom's 80s when I asked her, "How long did you work in your garden today?" She replied, "Not very long - just 4 hours." And that was no joke.</span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 18.6667px;">But my mom also loved to joke around and was always up for shenanigans, big and small. Since I couldn't find a picture of my mom and me in a garden together, I decided to share this one from 2012 when we were playing around modeling our bathrobes. It was a simple thing, but it was great fun. </span></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 18.6667px;">I miss my mom every day, but I cherish the good times we shared and I feel her presence in every flower. I love you, Mom, and I think of you every day </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">❤️</span></span><p></p></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Amanda McIntyrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301921471998752645noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3417651694294092310.post-26078532007459072182021-05-07T01:00:00.080-04:002021-05-10T05:40:45.019-04:00I HATE MONDAYS<p>. . . AND OTHER WORK DAYS<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dZtRmv8h57E/X-gMwI1OoOI/AAAAAAAAdLc/WI0cI5pOVUQnPiJkNIQTgrSLynLmoAUAACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/05%2BI%2BHate%2BMondays%2BMay%2BPromo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1336" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dZtRmv8h57E/X-gMwI1OoOI/AAAAAAAAdLc/WI0cI5pOVUQnPiJkNIQTgrSLynLmoAUAACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h334/05%2BI%2BHate%2BMondays%2BMay%2BPromo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Monday, Monday</p><p><br /></p><p><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">LIZBETH</span></b> </p><p>Oddly enough, I don't actually hate Mondays! Mondays are the day I try to keep free of obligation other than my own work. I have a job I love (writing romance novels) and Monday is the day I get to pretend I'm going to get finished or up-to-date on All The Things. Of course, being a procrastinator of the highest caliber I rarely am up-to-date. And Mondays are also when I catch up on Facebook, my reader group, and all the other shiny object thingies I love to use as avoidance. But at least I don't usually have outside appointments or engagements and my day is mine to use or waste as I want. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eCYkLDfihMQ/YJQarfv-RMI/AAAAAAAAEHM/Jg7vSuksUDAVRJsCdq22dBtKJ30pbR8AACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/monday-quotes-1576777544.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="321" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eCYkLDfihMQ/YJQarfv-RMI/AAAAAAAAEHM/Jg7vSuksUDAVRJsCdq22dBtKJ30pbR8AACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/monday-quotes-1576777544.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>There are other days of the week I enjoy far less because they don't belong to me. Tuesdays, for example, is my day to help out at my daughter's horse farm by cleaning stalls. I don't even hate the job--it's cathartic, I can get a lot of an e-book "read" while picking horsey poo, and there are horses around. But I have to be gone from my house for three-to-four hours and I do come home smelling like a barn. Wednesdays I babysit two of my grandchildren, which is a joy but it does take up an entire day. Thursdays are errand-running days. I take my mama grocery shopping and to any appointments she has (planned for Thursdays whenever possible). Again, enjoyable tasks but taking me away from my writing. Fridays--well, my hubby has a work schedule that allows him to have every other Friday off. Delightful, but that makes for a long weekend of plans where I don't get much work done either. Frankly, aside from having most Mondays free, I'm not sure how I ever wrote twelve books. (But you can see why I haven't written twenty-five!)<p></p><p>So--Mondays aren't my "manic" days. They are my only "my" days! So, keep 'em coming, at least on my calendar. I'll give you my Tuesdays!<br /><br /></p><p><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">AMANDA</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yietOEp22CA/YD-rsnBIuTI/AAAAAAAAIio/53BzoxZ4qJE6wEbEMUIv3W69yWOr9Os0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s225/images.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yietOEp22CA/YD-rsnBIuTI/AAAAAAAAIio/53BzoxZ4qJE6wEbEMUIv3W69yWOr9Os0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s0/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />I think my
disdain for Mondays came about when I worked full-time at the various jobs I
had in my youth. Society inundates us with the whole “TGIF” philosophy and it
creates a mindset of Monday through Friday being a grind, the “thing” you want
to leave behind at 5 PM on Friday and not think about until that alarm goes off
again on Monday morning! And who can forget, such great tunes as “Monday,
Monday” (Mamas& the Papas) or “Just another Manic Monday” (The Bangles) or
even “Rainy Days & Mondays” (The Carpenters)<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Ah, Monday,
Monday. <br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The thing
is, during this time of COVID-19, I’m lucky some days to remember what day it
is! Since the onset of COVID-19, we have chosen to watch our two grandsons
(ages 3 and 18 mo.) each week, Monday-Friday(7-4pm) Though we’re blessed beyond
measure, the fact is that it’s a bit more of a challenge for a woman of a
“certain age”” than when I was younger! Hence, it’s no great wonder that I
awoke last Saturday morning convinced it was Sunday and thinking how fast the
weekend just flew by! Thank you, CBS Saturday morning for setting me straight.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xKty2S-BNL8/YD-tBX-2W5I/AAAAAAAAIiw/d8T0VwWVAfMZiOC2ccBFAsqkhuvaBJhRACLcBGAsYHQ/s259/images%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xKty2S-BNL8/YD-tBX-2W5I/AAAAAAAAIiw/d8T0VwWVAfMZiOC2ccBFAsqkhuvaBJhRACLcBGAsYHQ/s0/images%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Truth is, they
say with age comes wisdom. I believe with COVID, there comes wisdom as well. I
no longer “hate” Mondays. Each day is a precious gift. <br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">I have come
to realize 1) how short & precious life is and 2) how to live in the moment,
because you can never get it back once it’s gone. To that end, my new “Monday”
song pick might just be “Amazing Grace.” (Best version, Pentatonix 2020)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Manic
Monday </span><a href="https://youtu.be/NVGOyYyWxiA"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">https://youtu.be/NVGOyYyWxiA</span></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Monday,
Monday </span><a href="https://youtu.be/h81Ojd3d2rY"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">https://youtu.be/h81Ojd3d2rY</span></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Rainy Days
& Mondays </span><a href="https://youtu.be/PjFoQxjgbrs"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">https://youtu.be/PjFoQxjgbrs</span></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Amazing
Grace </span><a href="https://youtu.be/Obp-9BEZe1c"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">https://youtu.be/Obp-9BEZe1c</span></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Angi Morganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568009648101184027noreply@blogger.com2