Window Over The Sink

Yesterday, I washed the towels, went to a doctor's appointment, stopped and bought a gallon of milk, dried, folded, and put away the towels, changed the sheets, took the ornaments off the Christmas tree, thought about taking the recycling to the school, fed the cats twice, fixed supper, and ran the dishwasher. If I add all of those things up, not including the hour and a half or so I spent going to the doctor and buying the milk, I probably have another two hours of actual do

by Nan Reinhardt I love to sing. I can’t sing. I mean I have a truly terrible voice, but I love to sing. Especially at Christmas. So Pandora’s Christmas Classics starts playing at our house before Thanksgiving and NPR gets switched to the Christmas station on the car radio as soon as B105.7 becomes all Christmas music all the time. I’ve played James Taylor’s holiday CD so many times I’m surprised it isn’t worn through and at least four times a week, I hunt for the Eagles vers

I will begin this with Nan's post on our last day ... and a half ... and end it with being back home. Thanks to those who've journeyed with us this week.

After our obligatory hair appointment today, sporting curls on Nan and my usual flat-iron look on me, we went to lunch at Vinny Vanucchi's in downtown Galena. We had excellent service and excellent food and opted not to have one of the most decadent looking desserts I've ever forced myself to turn down. Only minutes later, we were in a candy shop and never mind what we were doing there. What happens in Galena stays in Galena. Then we went on the history part of the day, enjo

Well, kids, I’m tired, I’m brain dead after a day of writing and I’ve had too much wine (I blame Liz for that, although I poured it myself, but she could’ve stopped me.)  That’s me in my “writing sweater”–a very tattered sweater that once belonged to my sister Kate, who left us way too soon. I wear to write because it’s magic–words come when I have it on. I think they come in through the holes… I could be wrong about that, but I don’t think I am. It was a day of all writing a

We arrived! We drove...and drove...and drove, but we got here safely and are loving our place! I knew that sister PJ vacationed with aplomb, but who knew Lizzie and I would enjoy such luxury? First though, the trip. I asked Gigi (my GPS) to avoid toll roads and interstates, and boy, did she! Part of our trip was on long country roads, past cornfields and farms and pastures with cows and horses. Delightful scenery! Interestingly, the route she took us on had so few towns, larg

Friends Nan Reinhardt and Carol Light are in Montana this week. Both of them write for Tule Publishing. Nan's new stories are at home in...

In case this looks familiar ... This is from January of 2023. I'm using it again for three reasons. One is that I really like it. Two is...

I had this week's post almost entirely written when I realized if I wouldn't like reading it, why would anyone else. My writing voice...

"Yesterday (20 March 2025), The Atlantic published a searchable database of over 7.5 million books and 81 million research papers . This...

I confess, for a long time, I rarely included animals in my sweet, small-town contemporary romances, or if I do, they play a pretty minor...

At Black Dog Writers the other night, we used story prompts and wrote for 20 minutes. Most of us wrote in longhand, a few on tablets, a...