When The Heart Finds Its Way Home

Every year at this time, I get nostalgic for family and events of the past, especially those involving people now gone. Maybe it's something about the changing from summer to fall, and the end of fall to the cold winter we have to prepare for. We begin to look inward, not outward to outside adventures. We focus more on our homes, the fireplaces and the fires of our own emotions.

I guess it's a great time for curling up with a good book, and for us romance writers, perhaps more than anything, it is OUR TIME. But I've always enjoyed the fall, as I enjoy the first rains, the clouds, the colorful leaves, the need for warm quilts and blankets, when holding hands becomes such a nurturing thing to do this time of year because it is warm.


My grandmother used to make Swedish Tea Ring, and I got my hand slapped when I tried to sneak pinches of the dough. My grandmother on my mother's side had ladies auxiliary teas and special holiday projects. We were a family who participated in choirs so there were rehearsals for the big Christmas season to come, my father would break out his drums to practice. My grandfather, the preacher, wore woolen scarves so his voice would hold up for all the events coming up. His biggest fear was getting a cold since he was such a wonderful orator and commanding presence in the pulpit. My mother was the beautiful soloist who would sing and make people in the audience cry with her high soprano notes reaching Heaven itself.

We'd hear from missionaries coming home for a brief Christmas travel, showing slides of their work in Asia and Africa, Turkey, Russia and parts of Indonesia and Japan. We made cookies for senior homes and my folks and I used to go deliver them. Mrs. Callison, my mother's best friend, made special sandwiches for the men at the Napa County Jail, which was her mission in life.


I remember attending church with Grandma Fox, and all 7 of her purses hanging on her arm. Going up front when Grandpa had the "Call" between the third and fourth stanzas of the closing hymn, that is, if no one else did, because it broke my heart not to have someone go up front. I tell people I've lived such a charmed life because I've been saved so many times, I've lost count.

I remember my little brother singing Christmas Carols during Thanksgiving - things he'd learned in school or Sunday school. I'd often fall asleep hearing him sing "binkle bells" to the night.


Thanksgiving is that one last deep breath we take in before the Christmas season descends upon all of us, all the mad rushing around, overspending, and going unconscious from coffee, sugar, alcohol and keeping up with everyone else. A mass hysteria and blindness descends on us all. But for the week of Thanksgiving, we just relax, meet with our family and friends, overeat, sleep a little more, stay warm and get ready.

We used to invite Stanford students to our Thanksgiving table. I remember Laly from Turkey. Bobo from France, and several others from India, Japan and China. It wasn't anything special, except sharing a meal in a traditional American way, with students who were far from their families back at home.

Thanksgiving is a decent time. A time of reflection. We have a lot to be grateful for, thankful for. We lay down another year of tradition, warmth and love. We make our homes sparkle and we allow our hearts to be renewed. Because the magic of the Thanksgiving season is that in giving thanks, we are healed. We don't have to be a perfect country or people. We just have to remember to be thankful for what we have and not regret what we don't.

Simple concept and yet, it could change the world. Imagine if all the people...well, you know the rest of the song, don't you?

Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

My Best Party Ever by Suz deMello

I'm a lucky person. People have remarked upon that regularly and I believe it. I was fortunate to be born into a middle-class, well-educated family full of creative, smart people and lots of fun times.

Sure, I encountered my share of lumps and bumps on the road of life, but for me, things have a way of working out.

And I've attended and thrown a lot of great parties. Unfortunately, due to my incredible age (ask me about the Inquisition!!) we didn't have picture-taking cell phones at most of them, and in quite a few, we were too ripped to find a camera, let alone take a picture.

And even now--few pix exist of our parties. See "too ripped", above. If I can remember to take a picture at a party, that means I'm not having enough fun. I'm not sufficiently engaged in the moment. And if I can find my phone--well, that shows that something's wrong).

But here's a couple of party pix:

This was in Matera, at the Women's Fiction Festival in,
I think, 2008. They throw the BEST parties! I'm in the middle.

My grand-niece's birthday party in 2014.
Someone actually had the presence of mind to
take a group photo! Wow. I'm in the front on the right.

But my best party ever was my 60th birthday party. (See, I told you I was old). At my request, it was a slumber party at my brother's home, a place perfectly suited to partying, especially a slumber party. Two rooms with huge sectional couches and great TVs. Extra bedrooms. Big kitchen where everyone congregates to drink my sister-in-law's infamous Evil Pink Brew--a lethal mixture of vodka, lemonade and Grenadine, meant to imitate Cosmos but on a grand and sloppy scale, and the EPB will make you grandly sloppy if you're not careful. I've learned to cut mine with plenty of 7-up.

Potter movies were playing on a continuous loop in one room, while something I can't remember was playing in the other (See, I told you it was a great party). Friends new and old, young and older came. It was great.

And no--no pix. Everyone was having too much fun.

Morrigan – The Great Dane

As promised from last month, I would like you all to meet Morrigan, our Great Dane. She’s our resident character and what a character she has, can’t you tell by the photo?

This huge girl, wasn’t always so big. When we rescued her, from a backyard breeder, she was in SERIOUS need of medical attention. Actually, none of us, including the Vet thought she would live. For a 6 month old puppy, she was the size of a 6 month old kitten. Yes, it’s hard to believe that her entire body fit in one hand! She was cute, but the truth is that she never should have been so small.

Morrigan was infested with worms, fleas and I know you can’t tell from this photo, but as a very young puppy, her left eye was punctured and left as is. I won’t described the details, believe me, you don’t want to know them. It was pretty gruesome and we, my partner and I, were pretty pissed! Needless to say, she is blind as a bat in that one eye.

After 7 rounds of MAJOR antibiotics and 5 rounds of de-wormer, we were finally able to get her stabilized. We all now believed she had a pretty good chance to survive, because she still wasn’t in the clear, yet. The infection from the eye injury had wrecked havoc on her poor little body.

Skipping forward several months and the fact that I believe we bought our Vet his new house…Morrigan is a happy and healthy galouf! Yes, I do call her our galouf. And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that she is blind in one eye. Believe me! She’ll be 3 years old and I swear, she’s a 120 lb freaking puppy and we have the broken furniture to prove it!

She’s one smart cookie, sometimes too smart for her own good! She’s loyal. She can be affectionate. She warns us before Jaque has a seizure. She loves our cats, although they aren’t always too sure about her. She’s sensitive, God forbid, we yell at her for anything, she gets her feelings hurt. And she doesn't like strangers. Not a bad combination.

We would have it any other way? No! All in all, she’s a great addition to the family.

Now, for a little shameless self promoting…

My newest book, Gaia’s Lust was released a couple of weeks ago. It is Book 5 of the Hightower Series and it’s got some hot, sexy scenes, involving hard candies. Yes, you read correctly. Hard candies.

You can read an excerpt on my webpage: http://www.anniealvarez.net/

Please note: This is intended for mature audiences only!

If you’ve read my series, no doubt you know about Zoe, the were-human. Next month, I’ll introduce the cat behind the character!


Thanks for having me here!
Annie Alvarez
http://www.anniealvarez.net/
http://naughtylittlevamp.blogspot.com/