My deck after a huge snowfall. The west coast is in shock from unusually cold (weather-12 Celcius/10 F)
Time for longjohns, crampons on boots, ski mitts and multiple scarves for everyday wear. The dog is confused. She’s from Mexico.
Thanks to all the people who showed up for Danger in Edinburgh’s book launch on December 3rd at the Sechelt library. We had a Victorian tea and cake event with Winona Kent who wrote Ticket to Ride sharing the launch. It was great fun. I enjoyed the questions from readers as I miss those opportunities of launches and conferences where readers come and enthusiastically partake of our imaginary worlds.
Shadows in Sussex (Book 5) is out of my hands and at the publishers. My beta readers and the publisher’s editors think it’s the best book yet, so we will see what readers think of it when it comes out next year. I put a lot of my own passions in that book.
Tom Sandborn (Vancouver Sun reviewer) when talking about Always Pack a Candle: A Nurse in the Cariboo-Chilcotin says that I am driven by a sense of justice. I expect that’s true and comes through in all my books—non-fiction and fiction. That sense might come from being one of the middle two in a family of six kids. Nothing seemed fair and I felt I had to fight for my wants and needs. It might be a common trait of middle kids.
One of the unexpected and delightful consequences of writing Always Pack a Candle is the many people from my past who have contacted me. Some of them have been friends and colleagues I lost contact with for decades, like my bridesmaid. Some have been people who lived in the area at that time and who write to tell me so. We often find connections. We knew the same people or were involved in the same projects. It’s heart-warming and I’m grateful that they reach out to tell me about their lives.
My house has been crying for attention, so I have a parade of the electrician, the drywaller and the landscaper who is pruning back the jungle that encroaches in this rainforest country. I’m grateful they come. The drywaller is here at the behest of a neigbour’s mother. I hired the neighbour boy—he’s 17 so he’s a boy but he is man-sized—to spread some extra insulation in my attic. Both his mother and I neglected to tell him to only step on the joists. His foot went through the ceiling. He was not hurt, just mortified. The repair job which requires time between applications of mud is taking about a month, because it is such a small job. A house requires constant attention. It’s worth it, though. The sunset viewed from my bedroom window was apricot and gold this morning, reflecting in the still waters of the ocean. I appreciate living here. Besides, the challenges of the house may force my brain to constantly problem-solve.
Happy Holidays to all. I hope the weather is clear, so driving is not hazardous this year as it’s wonderful to be able to visit again.