Smorgasbord Open House – Paranormal Romantic Suspense author Lyn Horner

Great interview on Smorgasbord with author Lyn Horner.

Letters

Reblogged from Vanbytheriver. I do hope for more!

vanbytheriver's avatarvanbytheriver

It might be a dying art, but there is something so special about the handwritten letter.

I have saved so many over the years; some from friends, most from family.

Rotari_YoungGirlWritingALoveLetter Painting. Pietro Rotari. 1755

None were more special than those from my Aunt Mary.

She was 6 years younger than my mother, her only sister. She was more devoted to the written word than anyone I knew.

She wrote constantly. She read everything.

It was a passion that started very young.

She was stricken with polio as a toddler, spent most of her childhood in a Shriner’s Hospital in Philadelphia, never attended a formal school.

Bright, curious, determined, with a few tutors, she was mostly self-taught.

Books opened doors to a rich, informed life.

Conversant in popular culture, a devoted fan of cinema, TV, modern and classic literature; she was also politically aware, passionately opinionated.

She was also a foodie, wine enthusiast, gourmet cook. Engaged a few times, but…

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More Goat Tales

goat-balanced-fence-636192Should goats not choose to lounge about with their bony heads in the fence, they walked through fences like ghosts through walls. Our house was enclosed by a wire fence which was inside the long drive leading up to the house. The pasture presented a third line of fence between the goats and the house. Even the blind goat ran up the diagonal corner brace posts and hopped the fences without even thinking, attaining total access to the whole place. Goats are perpetually in love. None of this fencing got between goats and their aim in life, copulating before as many onlookers as possible: ministers, prissy ladies, and small children, in that order. The tiniest of window ledges presented no problem should the company be saintly enough. Goats crashed my six-year-sister’s birthday party, indulging in a lurid love fest on the lawn, giving the kiddies an eye full till we got it broken up. One morning as the school bus driver impatiently honked for us, a huge Billy Goat chased his lady friend onto the hood of the school bus, consummating their relationship then and there, to the joy of the kids on the bus. Thank goodness, that indiscretion was enough to finally put an end to the goat herd.

Homemade Soap

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My new hobby of soap-making is getting out of hand, so I am offering them for purchase. They are superfatted with coconut, almond, and olive oil, as well as shea butter. I use them for face, body, and shampoo. The scents are natural and include triple orange with dried orange rind for exfoliant, cedar with coffee for exfoliant (removes garlic and onion smells from your hands, patchouli, fennel and rosemary, and the creamiest of all, goat milk vanilla. I am offering them for purchase and include samples with every order. Will gladly craft custom scents. I use natural scents from my garden as much as possible.
If you want to order, email me Lbeth1950@hotmail.com

Mindful Monday – Healthy Living: How to CONTROL Your Inner PIG!

Welcome to Mindful Monday – Healthy Living! Each week I try to examine new or sometimes old things about myself on my journey to becoming healthier. I have found that being mindful encompasses the …

Source: Mindful Monday – Healthy Living: How to CONTROL Your Inner PIG!

Laughter the best medicine – The Hospitality industry.

Reblogged from Smorgasbord,

Goats Doing What Goats Do Best

Goat in fence I don’t know why Daddy kept goats. In theory, they’d eat brush and he’d have one to barbecue on Memorial Day, Fourth of July, or Labor Day. The fact is, our goats didn’t ascribe to the brush eating theory and were born knowing their life’s purpose was to get their heads stuck in fences, climb on everything and make passionate love. It was clear to the dumbest of them that flowers, grass, garden vegetables, laundry on the line, and almost anything else was better than brush. Only a starving goat would eat poison ivy or bitter weed if anything else is available. I had plenty of experience with goats. Our fences were intended to keep cows and horses in. Goats easily slipped their heads through the wire since they were the philosophical type who believed “the grass is greener on the other side. The problem arose when they tried to remove their horned heads and were stuck fast. In our occupation of unpaid farm hands, my brother and I had to walk the fences to extricate stuck goats. A couple of hazards were manifest. The goats were never appreciative. While we worked to get them loose, they tried to flee, most often smashing our hands against the wire. The second major problem involved randy Billy Goats who thoroughly understood the nannies were in that particular situation for romantic purposes. Resentful Billy Goats can be quite vindictive. If goat testosterone could be marketed, I’d invest.

More to come

The 7 Things Writers Need to Create Great Content

This is good info!

Goats Pop the Top

imageThe visiting preacher came home with us for Sunday dinner. He had a just gotten a new car and spent most of Sunday dinner talking about it. His wife had a bad heart and lay down for a nap after lunch. He whispered “She could go anytime.” This did nothing to lighten the mood. It was clear the new car was the only bright spot in his life. It would look nice at her funeral. They were from out of town so we were stuck with them until time for the evening service. The afternoon looked long and hopeless. The kids escaped outdoors as soon as possible. Our house was on the edge of the farm, sitting inside a larger fenced area where Daddy raised hay and grazed cattle, horses, goats.  The driveway was several hundred yards long and fenced separately, enclosing several pecan and fruit trees, and space for parking. As goats will do, the goats had slipped through the fence and gotten in the drive. Brother Smith had parked his nice new car under the mulberry tree in full bloom. Goats love new vegetation and as it turns out, new cars. We saw several hop agilely to the roof of his new car. Before we could get to it, several more joined their friends standing on their back legs to reach the tree branches. There was a big metallic “Pop!!” and the hood caved in, leaving the goats in a bowl. They leapt off. Mother heard the racket and ran out just in time to catch the whole disaster. Her eyes were huge as her hands flew to her mouth. We hadn’t had a new car for years and now we’d be buying this preacher one. Not only that, his wife would probably drop dead on the spot and he’d have to drive a goat-battered car to the funeral.

God smiled on us. As soon as the goats jumped off, the hood popped back in the shape. This time we enjoyed the sound and flew to inspect the roof. Surprisingly, there was apparent damage. Mother got the preacher’s keys and pulled the car to the safety of the yard. Mrs. Smith lived through the day, and as far as I know, Brother Smith had a fine new car to drive to her funeral a couple of weeks later. All’s well that ends well.