Lifescapes

Indian Summer, and a New Project

The weather forecasts threatened a frost this weekend, and I moved the houseplants in for the duration and covered the potatoes in the garden. It got chilly enough for the first fireplace fire of the season, but the freeze didn't happen here, and we'll be back to warm temperatures for the next week or so.

This is a lovely time in the Hill Country, with the salvia blooming along the garden path, the elms scattering gold and brown leaves across the grass, and the cypress trees slowing turning a striking copper, then bronze. A few days ago, a flock of sandhill cranes, calling out with their wild, warbling cries, found a thermal over our meadow and circled to a higher altitude before they flew on, heading southeast toward the Gulf coast. The whitetail buck that regularly comes to the creek to drink is proudly sporting a 12-point rack--it's breeding season, and he's ready for his harem.

This is the turning point of the year. I love these last few weeks before winter strips all the leaves and turns the grass brown.

Book report. The eighth book in the Darling Dahlias series went off to the copy editor this week. You'll have Book 7--The DDs and the Unlucky Clover--in March, with book 8 coming next October. I finished it a little early because I have a new project in mind and I'm eager to get on with it.

It's a series of shorter books (novellas) featuring Ruby Wilcox and her usual Ruby-magic-paranormal, which will be published as ebooks. Novellas have been around for a long time, mostly as magazine serial fiction, back in the day when magazines published fiction. Novellas are usually too short to be economically published as print books, but digital publication is a whole different story. Now that so many people enjoy reading ebooks, it's possible to write in that form. So that's my next project, and I'm happily embarked on it. It could be published as early as next spring. When it tells me its title, I'll let you know. 

Reading note. Publishing a book is like stuffing a note into a bottle and hurling it into the sea. Some bottles drown, some come safe to land, where the notes are read and then possibly cherished, or else misinterpreted, or else understood all too well by those who hate the message. You never know who your readers might be.--Margaret Atwood

 

 

 

 

Darling Dahlias Giveaway!

 

We're having a giveaway this week--3 signed advance readers' copies of Book 7 in this series of 1930s Southern mysteries. Click over to Goodreads and enter. Canadian friends, this giveaway includes you! Or, if you're a NetGalley reviewer (librarian, bookseller, blogger), you can download an e-copy or read it on your Kindle. Thanks for helping spread the word!

A Table With a Backstory

Visitors to our home are often curious about our dining room table, which has to be one of the most dinged-up, scratched, and disreputable-looking tables in anyone's dining room, ever. But this venerable table is also a piece of history, and part of my own personal history, as well.

The table came from the old biology lab at Sophie Newcomb College, the women's college of Tulane University in New Orleans--closed in 2006, after Katrina. The lab was furnished with tables for student work when Newcomb was moved from its downtown New Orleans location shortly after WW1. As far as I know, it might even have begun its life at the downtown site, which was furnished in the 1880s. We moved the lab in the early 1980s, while I was serving as Newcomb's dean, and this table (along with several others) was headed for the scrap heap. I fell in love with it, gave it a home, and have treasured it ever since. It's at least 100 years old, and maybe as much as 140.

This was long before "shabby chic" came along, mind you, and this table is the real thing. No faux "distressing" here: it is sincerely, authentically distressed. The old pine top is scratched, marred, and bears indelible ink stains and what looks like a chemical burn. The white paint is flecking off the legs (kicked by bored students?), and there's evidence of an earlier coat of light green paint somewhere in its long life. It is a modest table, no artful flourishes or pretenses. It is simply and plainly what it is, and I like that.

Homestead report. We lost Buffie last week. She didn't come home with the other Girls after an evening out in the meadow. The usual suspects: a coyote, a stray dog, or old age (she was a member of the 2012 flock). We miss her. Here she is with her sister (whom we lost last year), in happier days. The five Barred Rocks miss her, too.

Book report. The Darling Dahlias and the Poinsettia Puzzle (#8 in that series) goes off to the copy editor next week. I have a new writing project: stay tuned, and when I'm a little farther along, I'll tell you about it.

Reading note. If I hadn't started painting, I would have raised chickens.--Attributed to Grandma Moses

Darling Dahlias Giveaway!

The Darling Dahlias are back with a new Depression-era mystery! Don't miss out on their latest Goodreads giveaway. Go here to enter to win a signed advance reading copy. 

Beginner's Mind

Coffee on the porch, bright October sunshine, and a doe having her morning breakfast of corn beside the creek, with her spring fawn hiding in the woods. Mornings always make me think of beginnings, of newness, of openings. I wonder who I will meet, what I will discover, what I will finish, and begin. The very, very best time of the day.

The ornamental grass in the photo is Lindheimer's muhly, which is native to the Edwards Plateau region of Central Texas (the Hill Country). But because it's so beautiful (and hardy, too) you can find it in many nurseries these days. The narrow bluish-gray foliage and graceful seed heads are striking--and especially at home in a xeriscape. These are native volunteers, along with the button bushes and the cattails that border the creek. 

Garden report. We put in a 30' row of potatoes a couple of weeks ago--a mix of reds and whites left from the spring planting and fully sprouted. I saw them peeping up this morning. The perennial onions have put on their autumn growth, and there's one determined, hardy bell pepper plant left from the summer garden. Hoping that the soil will cool off so I can put in some spinach. But with days still in the 90s, hoping is all I can do.

Book report. The upcoming (Mar 6, 2018) Dahlias mystery--#7, The Darling Dahlias and the Unlucky Clover--is available for pre-order now. If you'd like a signed, personalized copy for your Dahlias collection, go here. The ebook edition will be available for pre-order in December. I think there will be an audio edition, but I'm not sure yet. Please let your librarian and local indie bookstore know about the hardcover so they can keep an eye out for it. I'm working now on #8, which will also be available next year. I've enjoyed getting back to the 1930s and the Dahlias. Thanks to those of you who encouraged me to resume that series. Other projects are in the works--stay tuned!

Catching up: We spent 3 weeks in New Mexico in August, and I'll go back there after Thanksgiving for a few weeks. Hurricane Harvey missed us: 3" of rain and that was it. The squirrels have made off with most of Bill's pecan crop. I've been lazy about the blog, but when I'm working on a book, that's at the top of my mind and I procrastinate about almost everything else. Apologies--I'll try to do better. 

Reading note. Be willing to be a beginner every single morning.--Meister Eckhart