Monthly Archives: October 2015


Seventy-two hours and Grey is completely relaxed. This is trust and I won't betray it - well, except maybe to play.

Seventy-two hours and Grey is completely relaxed. This is trust and I won’t betray it – well, except maybe to play.

People in my books tease Polly about her propensity for rescuing people, animals, and even buildings. Though I’m not actively involved in any “rescues” right now (unless you count my bringing a cute little cat into the house – and I’m pretty sure she’s working on rescuing me), it is something I passionately believe in and financially support in ways I will never share or express. That’s my thing to do – you have your own.

I am always grateful when people ask me to help. I appreciate the opportunities that are often opened up to me in ways that I didn’t even realize were possible. I appreciate supporting others who are willing to leap out of their safety zone into a world where they can care for others.

This comes from a lifetime of learning. My grandmother often asked my father to sit with her and look over the charities she supported. They grew from year to year as she found one more place that could use a little help. She didn’t have a lot of money, but she shared whatever she could. When my father died and I opened up his files, I was astounded at the huge variety of charities that received money from him. He always did his research and was as frugal a man as I’ve ever known, but his generosity knew no bounds.

We grew up in small towns in Iowa in the sixties and seventies. Dad knew who was in need and did what he could to help. Transients and homeless individuals and families came through town and ended up in our home for a meal before moving on. We learned what it meant to give. One of the most memorable lessons the three of us kids learned was the night that a family with small children ate with us. Before they left, Mom sent us to our rooms to choose a toy to give away. We were under strict orders to *not* choose something we had tired of playing with, but to choose one of our favorite toys. That was important to Mom and Dad – that we not give from our excess, but from our heart. It is a memory that each of us carried. Sure, there was a little resentment at the moment, but the learning that came from it made each of us understand true generosity and it grew easier and easier for us throughout our lives. Because giving that comes from struggle makes the bond much deeper. There is a relationship between the giver, the gift and the one who receives.

Jon Acuff is a pretty cool young man (I can say that – I’m old, ya know). He writes awesome books on change … stepping out of your safe place … being brave … grabbing life without fear. And he’s got a huge heart. I’m not asking you to support this, but I do want to give you the opportunity.

Buy a candle for yourself or as a gift and support a group that believes in rescuing people from the worst our society has to offer. They operate not only in the Nashville area, but support organizations around the country. Watch the video if nothing else. Get to know Jon, read his blog, check out his books. Be inspired to reach beyond yourself, especially when it isn’t easy.

I know we all have groups / rescues / charities, etc., you are passionate about. For that I am so grateful. My character – Polly – reminds us constantly how important it is to find ways to be involved in someone else’s life. It doesn’t matter whether it is close to home or far away, whether you do it face to face or are generous with money or in other ways. The only thing that matters is that we do something beyond ourselves.


Well, for everyone who told me that TB needed a new friend – Bah on you. this is your fault.

This morning I went out to the front porch as I prepared to head for town to mail more books off. And I heard that horrible, pitiful sound of a kitten in need. I kind of prayed that I was hearing a bird, but I knew better. I chased down the sound and watched a little grey kitty disappear. Rats. I knew I’d never get my hands on him, but if he was meant to live with me, we’d figure out a way.

I did my errands in town and came back – heard the mewing again and before long, I had this little thing in my arms and in the comfort of our home.

TB isn’t terribly happy. Okay, he’s not happy at all. But he’ll deal with it. After hissing at me and Grey, then batting at me in anger, he’s decided the best place to hide is in the other room. 20151007_144340

I have no idea how old or what sex, but Grey meets our wonderful vet tomorrow afternoon and we start the process of making this cutie part of our family.

Pictures? Not much luck so far. Not only is this little cat mouthy enough to get my attention, but hasn’t stopped moving since we walked in the door – well, except to pound down as much of TB’s food as possible in a short period of time.

Edit: Ack! I didn’t even think about it, but he’s not named after Christian Grey. I have a little great-nephew whose name is Alistair Grey … oh, and a character in Bellingwood Book 11. And since I have no idea what sex this little thing is – it’s still fairly gender-less for a name.