Snow at last!

Okay, I admit, I'm like a little kid when it snows. I wait for it every single winter with foot-tapping impatience and then when it gets here I shiver in front of the radiator and wait until spring comes. LOL
But tomorrow they ('they' you know - 'the ones who know') anyway, THEY say is will snow.
So I've gotten my boots out of the attic, and found my scarf and my Canadian lumberjack hat. I am ready for the snow now. Tomorrow, when it comes, I will put on my boots, my hat, and my scarf and go outside. (And I promise I'll even put on pants, a sweater, and a coat...)
I will go for a walk in the woods with my dogs, and I'll take some pictures to show you all Montchauvet in the snow - which is so much more charming than Montchauvet in the pouring rain and mud, which is what we've had so far this year.
What's really nice is that a lot of the neighbors have left their Christmas decorations up in a vain atempt to add some seasonal cheer to the rotten weather, so with the snow, it will Finally look like Christmas. (On Christmas day we were all walking around in shorts...well, just about.)
Viva la Snow!
(Looking out the window. Nope, no snow yet!!)

Happy Birthday Twins!

Today is my twins BIRTHDAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWINS!!!
I can't believe it was 21 years ago already that you both decided to come into this world three months ahead of schedule!! I think they have learned to be patient now...

I was scanning the web today, looking for things to put in my press kit, when I came across an interveiw I did ages ago for Literary Potpourri, when my Alexander book first came out. The magazine editor, Beverly Jackson, asked me about finding a publisher. This is what I replied.

Jackson: Do you think you've created a new genre? This doesn't really fit sci-fi or magical realism or mainstream novels, does it? Did you have any trouble finding a publisher? Did the publishing world understand what you were up to? I notice the book is published in Australia.

Macaire: I can imagine Homer trying to sell his Iliad to a modern publisher, and it's more or less what happened with me and the agents and publishers I approached.

Homer: "Describe my book's genre? Well, it speaks of war, so it could be an adventure, but it has a love story between Hector and his wife…oh yes, and it has paranormal elements, there's Cassandra, she sees the future. There are religious factors, the gods and goddesses are always appearing and there is a definite historical slant, after all, it's about the siege of Troy, but there is quite a bit of humor. What do you think?"

Publisher: "I'm sorry, it doesn't fit our publishing needs right now. It's well written, but doesn't match any category. We wish you the best of luck with another publisher."

Homer: "I have another one too, this one is called 'The Odyssey' and I think it could be classified as a travelogue." He hesitates. "Adventure travel with elements of romance and the paranormal."

Publisher: "Send in the first three chapters and a synopsis. We'll get back to you in about a year. But don't get your hopes up. History books are not selling, series are out of the question for an unknown, cross-genre is not acceptable for traditional publishers and you haven't been published before."

I waited four years before finding a publisher. Most editors loved the story, but no one wanted to take a chance on something so radically different than what is 'out there'. I had a problem with the fact that Alexander had more than one wife, that he was bisexual, and that Ashley is not faithful to Alexander. She falls in love with Plexis, and Plexis is in love with Alexander, and the whole story sort of overwhelmed some people. One person sent back my manuscript with 'I can't handle this!' in big red letters. That was a low point, but I never got upset about it. I love this series, and to tell the absolute truth, even if it hadn't been published, I still would have been content. I truly love to read these books, and that, to me, is why I wrote them. Because they are fun to read and to entertain. Even if it's only myself."

Well, I'm glad I found that, because it's true that I am glad I wrote these books, I love re-reading them, and I definitely feel like I've accomplished something wonderful whenever I do read them.

I have queried one agent about the series, and I also sent a query to one publisher. I contacted an editor who loved my work, but she says her publishing company only accepts unpublished books. (I was crushed - it wasn't published all the way. Just the first three books in the series. Does that count?)

Anyhow...(that's my word for the day: Anyhow) I am finishing up my suspense novel (I keep saying that but it's getting to the end, I promise!) and I'm starting a new sci-fi novel. I also started a contemporary romantic comedy (and I know, I'm mispelling everything, but I have to go make dinner!) so I have lots of projects.

Oh, and we're calling the publishing company Triptych, I think.

What do you think?

Lazy Sunday

It's very quiet around here. The dogs are sleeping. My son is on duty at the fire department. My daughter is at a horse show in Normandy with her friend. My husband is at the polo club. And I finished cleaning the house, finished formating a book, and am looking over some contracts and trying to decide what to do with my projects.
Everyone says (to an author) "Keep writing!" What they don't tell you is the amount of time you spend promoting: updating your website, writing blurbs, keeping abreast of publishing news, and blogs. They don't tell you what to do when a publisher folds and you get your rights back - how do you market a book that's already been published? Most publishers won't touch it. *sigh* They don't tell you what to do with a project that's been to a couple editors and that's come back to you. They don't tell you what to do when you know your book is a good fit for a publisher, but you can't contact anyone there because they won't accept unagented queries.
What you are supposed to do is this:
Write your query letter. Give it your best shot. Send it out following the agent/publisher/editor's guidelines. Wait for a month, 2 months, 3 months...Once I waited almost a year before hearing back from a submission.
In the meantime, in between time...Ain't we got fun?
In the meantime, we're supposed to keep writing.
So, I write.
But I'm starting to wonder if it wouldn't be better to do something more constructive with my time. If I spent as much time ironing as I did writing, we'd have the neatest clothes in town. If I spent as much time cleaning my house, we'de be in House Beautiful. If I spent as much time in the garden, we'd be in House and Garden, lol.
I suppose my children would love to have my undivided attention.
Not.
Or my husband? He'd go nuts.
My dogs? They mostly sleep. If I kept waking them up they would be cross.
I could draw. (I already do that.) I could learn to knit, take up jogging, take up chicken farming, double my tutoring load, get a job as a translator?
Actually, I think I'm going to go into the publishing end of the business with a friend and see where that goes. She's an editor and a reviewer, she wants a reader, cover artist, and a website designer. I love designing covers and websites, and reading is lots of fun.
Well, it's an idea.
And in the meantime, in between time, I'm still writing.
:-)

Poetry

One of the boys I'm tutoring has to learn a new poem every month. He has to learn it by heart and recite it in front of the class. The children have a choice between 4 poems every month - I have to admit that this boy always chooses the shortest one, lol.
This month he chose a poem about winter. It's quite lovely, and goes like this (translated of course)

First Frost

Winter is coming, killer of the poor people.
Like a cruel baron sending his sergeants ahead as a warning, frost, white fingers of ice and a harsh wind.
We hear the children's loud breath as they run with their hands on their faces, their feet hitting the hard ground.
Even the dogs, unable to scent, flee like arrows...
But how lovely the first frost!
The window whipped by the cold outside,
sparkles beneath delicate crystals
and shimmers beneath the mother of pearl-like micas,
Whose design blooms like arced acanthus leaves on the panes.
The trees wear crackling silk.
The sky has the thin look of pale old silver.

I have a hard time translating poetry, and I'm trying to give the general idea of the peice. It really is quite lovely.
Well, the boys have arrived so I better go see what homework they have to do!

Master of the Universe!

I spent four days struggling to master the formating for the Siren's newsletter, and I finally did it. It was such a thrill to see it finally uploaded online and looking decent. For so many days I'd stared at missing text, huge blank spots, uneven lines, and different sized fonts that I thought I'd go mad. I wanted to throw my computer out the window. I wanted to jump out the window. I literally sat at the computer and and screamed out of sheer frustration. (Well, yelled very loudly.) (Actually I swore in a rather louder than usual voice after making sure my kids were nowhere in hearing and the window was closed.)
But now it is done, the newsletter formatted and it looks GOOD. Ha! I did it.
Here is the link:
http://www.sensualromances.com/NewsletterJan07.html
It works.
And I have to thank my friend Katherine Kingston who has been formating this newsletter for the past two years, and whose task I have now taken over. Kathrine, you deserve a medal.

On the bright side - my daughters lice seem to have been irradicated. No more nits. And the English lesson with the preschoolers went fine - one of the little boys showed up in full pirate regalia including plastic sword. I managed to get it away from him and we sang 'Ten little Indians" and he wanted to sing ten little pirates, so we did that too.
My son was on duty today and I went to the fire department and hung around waiting for him to get back from a 'mission'.

It's January, which means that it's 'the galette du roi' time. That's a sort of flaky pastry with sweet almond filling, and in the cake is a little china figurine. They used to use a big dried beans, or 'feve', which is why the French call it a 'feve' but it's really a little glass figure (can be just about anything - animal, person, cartoon character...) and the person that gets it in his peice of cake is king or queen, and gets to wear a flashy cardboard crown. It's a cute tradition, and it lasts all month, although the real reason for the cake is the Epiphany.
What happens is you cut the cake while the youngest person at the table hides beneath the table, and you put each slice on a plate and ask 'who's this for?' and the child beneath the table calls out names, and that's how you divide up the cake. If there are no children, then you cut up the cake. But you're expected to wear the crown no matter how old you are.
The other day my husband got the 'feve', and he put the crown on. He got up and went outside to take the dogs out right after dinner, and forgot the take the crown off. He was walking around with the camoflage jacket I got in the states for him to go hunting, his red flannel pyjama bottoms my sister gave him for Christmas, and his gold crown.
The neighbors have taken to giving me sympathetic looks.
I wonder why?

Flied Lice

There is one thing about France that will probably surprise you - it is rife with lice. They are everywhere, and cross every social, racial, and economic boundry. As the French as fond of saying, "Lice are not snobs."
The first time my twins caught lice was when we lived in Bordeaux. We lived in Margaux, actually, right in the center of the wine-making region. Our house was the west wing of a chateau - we were the west wing, the cellars were in the right wing, and the chateau was in the middle. I used to say we had the best view - we had a view of the chateau. There were two charming girls in the chateau who, every morning, went to with a chauffeur to a private school in Bordeaux while I drove my twins to the local public school. The girls, after school, came to my house and played with the twins. One day, I noticed that one of them had lice. I checked my sons. They had lice too. In fact, everyone did. The nice thing about lice is that they share easily. The bad thing about them is that they are tough critters and it takes a dedicated treatment to get rid of them.
Who had them first? The private school or the public school? Actually, as both the Directors said in apologetic tones, "Zee lice are every year in zee school." All schools.
I was aghast. When I was a child in rural NY state, a strange nurse would come twice a year and walk with her heavy shoes up the rows as we sat, heads bowed, hands folded, waiting while she stopped and peered at our scalps, tilting our heads so she could see behind our ears and necks where the lice like to lay their nits. And if, by chance, a child had lice, it was a momentous event. The child was sent home, and all the other kids laughed and called him/or her 'Booger head' or worse. Having lice in the US was worse than having your father in prison. You were ostrasized.
The French were horrified when I told them this. Lice treatments are sold in every grocery store with the shampoo section. The bottles are pink and purple, and called pretty names like 'Marie Rose'. There are 'natural' sprays to help keep the lice away made from lavender oil, and there are a plethoria of shampoos and creams destined to wipe out the infestation. Because that's what it is. You never have a louse. You have lice.
And that's what my daughter has.
It (They) came from her school. Her friend Justine's mother called me and told me she was treating Justine. Or maybe it came from my friend's daughter - she went to the south of France and stayed with a woman in a manor house, and the woman's daughter had lice that she'd caught from school, most likely, and this woman's daughter spent the night at our house. Or it could be from the pony club. My daughter tried on a helmet the other day. At any rate, we have bought a pretty pink bottle of 'Marie Rose', and I'm borrowing a nit comb from my neighbor (most everyone has at least one nit comb, but I admit to losing mine. We haven't had lice in the house for years. This is the first time, actually, since we lived in London. Oh, yes, there were lice in England too. I bought lice shampoo in Harrods one day. My sister in law bet me they wouldn't have any, but I told her "They have Everything in Harrods." I was right.
There is a protocol to lice, as there is a protocol to everything in France. One calls the people who are frequent visiters and tells them, and one calls the school and tells the Director. One warns ones child not to share bonnets and scarves in the wintertime. Then you do your best to iradicate the creatures. You wash the sheets, the pillowcases (every day during the treatment) and you wash the sweaters, hats, and since my daughter has a parka with a hood - that gets washed too. I tell the people whose children come for English lessons. They just shrug, and we chat about lice and how hard it is to get rid of them.
Everyone is fatalistic when it comes to lice in France.
As they French love to say, "C'est la vie."

Happy Birthday, Mr. King

Happy Birthday, Mr. King.
I wonder what you would think if you woke up from your eternal sleep and came to the country you fought so hard to improve. Would you be glad at the progress it has made? There has been some. Equality is now a matter of law, and it's slowly becoming fact as well. Although if you look at what happened in New Orleans, you would doubt any progress had been made. Black people still make up the largest proportion of the poor and incarcerated population. More black children are struggling in school and struggling to get a college education. High paying jobs still go to white men. Some black people have made inroads, like you did, into prejudice and poverty. I'm thinking you might like to sit down with a certain Oprah Winfrey and talk about what has been done, and what can be done. You'd get a kick out of seeing people like Spike Lee and reading books by Toni Morrison. Your heart would rejoice because the lines are being blurred, and more and more black people are attaining what you strove so hard to offer them: equality. Respect. Justice. But the road must look uphill, rocky, and long to you still.And what about your views on the war? You were passionately against Vietnam, calling it an act of aggression, and stating that the United States was the most dangerous, destructive country in the world. You would feel that time stood still if you came back today. The US is still attacking other countries. They attack, while claiming to defend themselves. You would see through the lies, because you always did see through the lies. And you would be devastated for each of the soldiers that died. I can feel your pain. And you would speak against it. You would make fiery speeches and unite thousands behind you. You would raise your fists to the sky and cry out, "It is no longer a choice, my friends, between violence and nonviolence. It is either nonviolence or nonexistence."And you would be right.Even now, the president of the united states is throwing more men and weapons into a war that he started, a war that is filling his coffers and those of his cronies with billions of dollars in profits, while more sons of America die in a faraway country whose only crime was to be sitting on immense oil reserves. (Canada, you're next...after Iran I mean.)So I hesitate to invite you back for a look at the world on this day - your birthday. Perhaps it will be better to wait a few years, wait until the black people of America have truly found equality - in the way they are paid, housed, educated, doctored, and judged. Wait until this quagmire of a war is finished - though it may end in ashes. If the US decides to attack other countries, then I cannot blame them for fighting back. I can't blame the Iraqis for fighting back. They never asked for an invasion. They never asked for help. They never asked to be carpet bombed, to have their schools and hospitals destroyed, to have over half a million people killed. So, you would be too sad to see this mess. You would rant, and hardly anyone would raise their eyes from their television screens to listen. You would shudder, and think that maybe it's a good thing, after all, that this is all happening over your dead body.But I miss you. I miss your passion and your goodness, and your belief in nonviolent protesting. So I'm adding mine. I promise to protest inequality when I see it, to protest the war - any war - All wars, because they are an abomination. I promise to protest against hatred and against discrimination.Happy Birthday Mr. King. I wish I could offer you a better one.

--Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929 - 1968)

Nobel Peace prize - 1964

Books by Martin Luther King, Jr.:

Stride toward freedom; the Montgomery story (1958)
The Measure of a Man (1959)
Strength to Love (1963)
Why We Can't Wait (1964)
Where do we go from here: Chaos or community? (1967)
The Trumpet of Conscience (1968)
A Testament of Hope : The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. (1986)
The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. by Martin Luther King Jr. and Clayborne Carson (1998)

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

A Door Closes, A Window Opens...

A door closes and a window opens...and I feel like jumping out of it.

No, not at all.
I'm discovering how resiliant I am and I'm enjoying the feeling of bouncing back. My agent is cutting back her work load and only working part time, so she's letting me out of our contract. She doesn't feel she has the time to devote to my project. She submitted it to 4 publishers and she very kindly sent their comments along with her letter - and it did raise my spirits to see that the book was well recieved. One editor wants more of my work, "Please, please, please send more of her work!" she wrote. Well, that's a perk. It's also frustrating because I wouldn't dream of contacting her myself, which means I have to find a new agent now. I have four projects for sale. One is my "Time for Alexander" series. One is "The Promise". One is "Jack's Back". And one is "A Charm for A Unicorn", a YA fantasy. They are all different genres, so I'm not even sure that one agent would take them all. I've decided I might query several different agents with one project - so start with 4 agents and go from there. I liked my agent, she was a very nice person and fun to work with - always enthusiastic and helpful, so I'll miss her. And I wish her well with her own projects. I'm guessing she's working part time now to pursue some other interest.
People do change professions. I was a salesgirl, a model, then I was a mother (the hardest job so far!) a journalist, and an author. I've been a freelance artist since I left school, and I've done odd jobs like selling pizza on a corner, making jewelry, working in a toy fair, translating, grooming horses, website design, and tutor. I've taken a course on how to teach English to preschool children, and I do that once a week. I write, but I don't have to write. I just love to write. I've done so many things in my life that writing just seemed a natual extension of the experiences I've had.
I could be a groom, a translator, a cartoonist, or teach French etiquette. I've met kings, rajahs, princes and princesses. I've played polo and sailed on a sailboat that won the Rolex Cup. I've raised three children, and that's what counts the most for me. I have good friends, and that counts too. And a wonderful family - and for that I feel absolutely blessed.
So when this door closed and I got my project back and some of my hopes vanished like smoke, I squared my shoulders and, (like the Pollyanna I admit I am), I thought of all the good things I have, all the fun things I've done, my friends and family...and I looked out the window that just opened and I saw a huge, vast world just waiting for me.
And I started writing my query letters, because I'm sort of an impatient, stubborn person too, lol.

More on the roof.

The workers took ten tons off the building by taking out the whole first floor. The foreman was astounded - he'd predicted six tons, not ten. I went in and looked at the beams. They were bowed and some had huge cracks in them. All had been shifted from their original placement. I guess I'm lucky the whole thing never collapsed on my head!

They've put a metal beam in place of the old wooden main beam. A pity - it's not as picturesque as the wooden ones. But it won't break, lol.

Yesterday was full of surprises. The workers set fire to something in the building, the electricity shorted out, there was a while when I didn't know if I should call the fire department or my electrician. Neither were necessary - the workers put out the fire and fixed the electricity. But I didn't get much done. I had been working on my WIP, but put it aside out of fear of another black-out.

Auguste, my dachshund, loves going and getting in the workers' way. I have shut him in the house today, because they are tiling the roof and both the front and back gates are wide open. Auguste is heartbroken. His new friends won't play with him anymore. The workers keep asking me if he's a hunting dog. They much admire dogs that are useful, and think that pets are a flamboyant waste of space. I explain that Auguste and Rusty are part of the family. They sleep in the house, they get spoiled, and they sometimes hunt with my husband. I wouldn't call them hunting dogs. I'd call Auguste a lap dog, and Rusty aspires to win the world record for sleeping and snoring.

It's Wednesday...

...Which happens every seven days, so it's not all that exciting.
I fiddled with my Jennifer Site yesterday, put up a new header that my son Alex fixed up for me, and changed it to a more sci-fi looking site.
Tara Marie posted a review of Angels on Crusade and I wanted to say Thank You! It's really a nice review - she's not a sci-fi fan, but she gave it a very balanced and fair reading and I really appreciate it. You know how people are always saying that they want other people to start taking such and such a genre seriously? Well, it's nice when someone admits that a genre is not their 'thing', but they read it anyway and have something good to say about it. That's what I call an open mind. (and it's funny because I loved how she called one character's death gruesome - Yes! It's gruesome - it's someone's death, and I think that if you find it horrid, then I did it right, lol).
Kate Rothwell has kindly linked to my blog so I'm linking back. She had a contest and I didn't win it, but I had fun trying. Scroll down a few posts and check it out, and make sure you are not drinking anything as you read the responses. I will not be responsible for any ruined keyboards.
Well, my students will be here any minute (for their English lesson - I teach pre-schoolers English, which is a lot of fun.) We sing songs, play with puppets, and learn the colors, counting, the alphabet, and 'head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes...' LOL. That is their favorite song. Today's lesson is family members and so I've printed up papers with a blank frame, with 'This is my Mother', (Father, Sister, Brother) on them. The kids will draw their Mother (father, sister, brother) in the frame.
:-)
The weather here is still abnormally warm. It's rainy, but I've got the windows open to air out the rooms. The workers have come and are breaking down the roof in the buildings contigent to our house, (where I usually keep my freezer and my dryer, bikes and garbage bins) So there is dust everywhere. I keep sneezing. (The workers are not here yet this morning. Maybe I'll go and take some photos so I can show you what's going on.) Here is my house (on the right) and the outbuilding (front and center) with the new roof tiles waiting in neat piles.

And here we are looking up at the roof. The workers took out the first floor and left the beams. The floor (with the dirt, tiles, and such) weighed over five tons.
Now the workers will shore up the beams, redo the roof - and leave the building as it is. It's not going to be a liveable space, I'm afraid.

Have Great Wednesday!

Vacation is Over

It's SOOOooooo over, lol.
So today I went to the gym and my muscles are Not thanking me. We worked out with weights for an hour and believe me - I am going to be SORE tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm going to another gym class - I did, after all, make a small New Year's resolution - keep working out. And drop the bread from my diet. Oy, it will be Hard - I live in France - country of Zee Vonderful Baguette.
At least there is still coffee. And chocolate. Within reason. LOL.
So this is now my breakfast: (no bread or cereal) a slice of mild cheese, a handful of dates, a plain yogurt & some honey, and COFFEE.
Today my son lost my extra car key, so now we only have one key. This is a pain, because we juggle between the two keys - he takes the car early in the morning and leaves it at the train station, and I go pick it up later. Now that we only have one key, I have to get up and drive him to the station at the ungodly hour of 6:15. I don't wake up officially until 7:00, so this should be interesting. Note to self - make sure coffee is all set to go for the morning.
Someone just reviewed one of my books -actually I got three reviews this week, but this one (and I haven't even seen it yet) is from a romance reading woman who blogs and posts reviews on her blog, so it's not an 'official' review. She wrote to me and said she liked the book, found it refreshing and gritty - but warned me that the review wasn't glowing - did I still want her to post it? I thought it was incredibly sweet of her to ask. And I replied that I didn't write books to get glowing reviews (although it's nice to get them) and I was fine with her posting any sort of review she liked - it was her opinion, after all. I'm really thick skinned.
But it got me thinking. A lot of reviewers are afraid to speak their mind for fear of being castigated by A) the author, or B) the author's fan club. I've seen it happen and it isn't pretty. I've been a reviewer so I know how much work goes into a review, and I don't take kindly to authors complaints in public. In private, I figure you can say what you want. But a reviewer's opinion is simply an opinion, and you can't expect everyone to love the same thing. I sent this person the book as a gift, and she read my book and offered to post a review on her blog, and even if it's not glowing, I'm happy she cared enough to A) read the book and B) blog about it. Even if she is going to blog about what she didn't like about it - that's fine with me. Everyone is entitled to their opinions! Right? I might even learn something I didn't know about my own writing.
Other news:
And I'm waiting for my second round of edits for 'Merlin's Song' - my editor told me they would be arriving on the 12th.
Today's my mom's birthday and she has a terrible cold. Happy Birthday Mom, and lots of aspirin, hot soup, and lemon tea for you!
My son has decided to leave Ohio and move to NY, and he's trying to transfer his credits and enroll in another college. Paperwork and legwork. Good luck Alex!
My other son is taking his 'partials' which are the French equivalent of mid-term exams for university students. I wish him luck too - he has a long week ahead of him!

It's raining Again

It's raining...Again!
I can't believe it's January. The weather is so mild my forsythia is still popping out flowers - the idiot. I keep telling it that it's mid winter, and any little blossom will get frozen, but yellow flowers still appear on the branches. I wonder if it will be flowering in the spring. My daughter and he friend went outside to walk the dogs, and her friend fell and sprained her ankle. It's always worse when it's somone else's child. Mine don't seem to get into scrapes, but I've had to drive several of their pals to the emergency room for stitches or plasters. One girl fell and snapped her front tooth right off, which was probably the worst thing that happened. Another time we took the kids and their friends to a miniature golf course - and of course it's the friend who gets whacked on the head with the club (not even by anyone we knew - the kid went to another hole to see what was going on.) And each time I was frantic with worry and wishing it had been my kid instead! If it was my kid, I wouldn't feel so awful - like I was supposed to watch them every second, because my kids know that I'm a very 'hands off' mom, who has always let them go on hikes, ride bikes, climb trees - alone. I usually wave as they set off, (with the dogs in tow) and wait for them to come home. So I tend to do the same for their friends. "Sure, go out and walk the dogs - see you in a while." And then here they come five minutes later, the friend with scraped hands and a swollen ankle. (off to check - I made her sit and put ice on it - yes, still swollen but not turning blue or anything.)
I'm such a bad mother that I forget to have my son's stitches out last week. Yesterday he asked me when he should have them out and I'd Completely Forgotten he'd had 3 stitches! (he had a mole removed) No big deal - so I forgot. If there's no huge cast, you can be sure I'll forget. So I took him to see my friend Catherine this morning (a nurse) and she snipped them out and laughed at me for worrying. But I can't help it - as a bad mother I must always worry that my neglect is going to make my kids A) Hate me or B)Become Independant. In the best of worlds it would be B, but I'm always worried about A.
I'm a bad mother because I am sitting here blogging instead of hovering over the poor girl's ankle, but as she's laughing with my daughter, I can be forgiven for thinking she's all right. She keeps breaking off to cry out dramatically "Ow, My Ankle!" but I think that is just theatrics, and since she's been enrolled for three years in a row in drama class, I tend not to take her very seriously. (Just an aside here - why do most poeple take actors so seriously? They are Actors! They dramatize, they excel in theatrics, they are HAMS. Just as I don't take my children very seriously - "Mom, he killed me!" - so I don't take actors seriously either.)
I am not, however, as bad as my husband's aunt, who didn't pay attention to her daughters cries that her arm hurt. TEN days later she finally took her to the doctor who diagnosed a broken collar bone. The child was about twelve. Her Husband was a Surgeon. This is the mother who had a spaniel who growled when her daughter approached her. She would snap at her daughter - "Can't you see you're upsetting the dog?" Now there was a woman with motherly instincts.
I like my husband's aunt, but if I'd been her daughter, I think the dog would have mysteriously died of poison...But then again, maybe not. Maybe the mother would have...Oh, I am getting seriously off subject here.
I was saying that the weather is incredibly warm for the season, and that I was a terrible mother, which isn't totally unrelated. If we turn it into a metaphor for the earth and humans (as being caretakers for the earth) you can agree that we've done a pretty awful job of taking care of the earth, and if things start heating up, you can be sure it's out own fault. What happens when kids rebel? What happens when the earth rebels?

5 Reasons to Love living in Montchauvet

5 reasons to love where I live:

There are two egg farms. I can trot down the street and get fresh eggs whenever I want.

The restaurant across the street makes gourmet food to die for...And it's very reasonably priced.

There are hiking trails all around, and they are all very different and very beautiful.

There is a really great 36 hole golf course a quarter mile away.

There is a wonderful mix of people in the village - Parisians who only come for vacation, farmers who have been here for generations, people of all trades, lots of artistic people, and a villege fête comitee that really knows how to throw great parties!

New Years traditions in France

There aren't really many New Year traditions in France except one: on the stroke of midnight, everyone gets on the phone and calls friends and family. (Before cell phones there was always a log jam in front of the phone as people jostled for position.) Now, as soon as everyone is done kissing every other person in the house (another French tradition - the smoochie on the cheekie) they grab their cell phones and start dialling.
The phone calling spree lasts for several days afterwards. This is why: the French do not send Christmas cards. They prefer to call.
It's nice, but odd to be calling people at midnight. No one is ever sleeping (or admits to be sleeping!) Everyone expects the call. Nowadays, there are the instant messages too - and "Happy New Year!" was flying around the phone screens. My husband made a list of everyone he wanted to call and spent three days on the phone.
I sent my traditional Christmas cards out, including e-cards that I really think are terrific. Just think: No trees were killed to make an e-card. No jet plane fuel was burned sending it over the ocean. No cars and trucks were started in order to deliver it. E-cards are instant, disposable, and non-polluting. The spirit of Christmas and the New Year lives on in virtual pixels.
(and in disembodied voices over the phone...)

New Year Resolutions

Everyone seems to be posting New Year resolutions, but I haven't made any - except to exercise more and I do that every year.
Maybe I should look for more resolutions to make my life better, but to tell the truth, there's not much else I want. I have a wonderful family, terrific friends, good health, and a roof that doesn't leak. I have a computer that only crashes a little, a washing machine that only leaks a bit, and a car that makes strange noises but gets me where I need to go. I have two dogs that are fun to take on walks, and a beautiful area to walk around in.
So, this year I decided that I'd spend more time outside walking around with my dogs getting more exercise, but other than that, I'm quite content.

Nothing much is going on here today. The village is quiet after a raucous New Year's Eve party over at the restaurant across the street. We came home from our (small but nice) party at 2 a.m. and heard the music blaring as we drove up the hill. As we parked and opened the door, the music deafened us. They were really rockn' in the resto! My daughter was tickled to hear a very silly song last night at our party. It was Quite rude, and had us all laughing hysterically. It was a song you sang and it had gestures, and was all about the Bedouin's daughter, a banana, and a donkey...and no, you do not want to know! LOL. We were woken up early by the church bells (as usual) and my hubby brought me a cup of coffee in bed (I could hardly open my eyes, lol) and he's napping now, my son is studying for his exams, and my daughter is writing a book about a horse named 'Pitou'. The weather is getting colder - which is good because yesterday it was balmy and rainy. At least the cold means dryer weather here. Well, we're off to take a walk now with the dogs!

I hope everyone has a wonderful, prosperous, and healthy New Year 2007!
Best wishes and lots of hugs,
Sam

Together at Last...

I published my entire Alexander series at

www.lulu.com/jennifermacaire

The story about this series is a long one (so I will abridge and not bore you...)

They were published in Australia by Jacobyte Books, and did very well. unfortunately, Jacobyte folded just as they were about to publish book IV, and so the series stopped. And I got a lot of letters from readers begging me to find another publisher. Now. But publishing moves at the pace of a snail, and I thought it was unfair of me to withold the end of the series. So I have put them on Lulu and made the price as low as possible. Remember, I'm paying for each book to be made into a paperback, so I can't charge less than it costs to make the darn things - but I'm shaving my profits on the paperbacks and making the e-books 3$ each - very affordable - so that everyone can get a copy.

Anyhow, I still own all the rights, so anyone wanting to make a movie out of them please contact me. I have Brad Pitt and Leonardo Di Caprio waiting for the green light...LOL

Here is the Blurb for book 1:

Ashley is a one of the elite, a time-travel journalist who has fought to prove herself in a world that that believes her road in life was paved by her parents' money and her title.
After winning a prestigious award she is chosen to travel through time and interview a historical figure. Choosing her childhood hero Alexander the Great, she is sent back in time for less than a day to find and interview a man whose legend has survived to the present day. He mistakes her for Persephone, goddess of the dead, and kidnaps her, stranding her in his own time.
What follows, after she awakes under a pomegranate tree, is a hilarious, mind-bending tale of a modern woman immersed in the ancient throes of sex, love, quite a bit of vino, war, death, and ever so much more.

$3.00 Download
(note - this series is rated R - for ages 16 and older)

Is it New Years Eve yet?

Usually the holidays seem to go by in a blur. This year, it's like everything is going in slow motion. Is it because for once, I have nearly an entire week for myself with no lessons, deadlines, or parties? And the weather is dreadful - the kind of wet, cold weather that makes your throat hurt just to step outside. Ugh. I've been mostly cleaning, reading (Oh, I got such great books for Christmas!) and playing Heroes V, that my son Alex got me for Christmas. Yes, I'm a Heroes fan, lol.

My daughter and I sit and watch Hercule Poirot films until late at night (my husband got me a collection of them) and I munch on my Alfajores (my neice brought them for me from Argentina - they are my favorite yummy sweet!) and I take lots of pictures of the kids.

For the New Year; we're going to a friend's house. It will be just the four of us and lots of kids. (mine, theirs, plus cousins and pals) and I'm bringing dessert.

I can't wait for New Year's Day - I get to hang up my New Rugby Man Calendar! Yes - my hubby got me the 2007 French Rugbyman calendar. Whew!

But none are as gorgeous as my son. I think I need to get this guy to a modeling agency, lol. He's my voluntary fireman/psychology major son, and he's pretty handsome. (see photo taken at Christmas dinner below) (OK enough bragging.)

His twin, Alex, left to go back to the US yesterday, so I'm feeling a little heartbroken. The house feels empty without both boys here. Even the dogs were sad and moped. I cheered myself up thinking of all the presents my sister in law has given me throughout the years. She is master at finding just the right thing that you have no idea what to do with. She gave me a plastic bracelet once. Another time I got writing paper lifted from a hotel room. This year it was 6 bubble bath beads - and I don't have a bath tub, only a shower. My husband, who never drinks, got a wine thermometer this year. We have decided that the only thing better than a present from my sister in law is no present from my sister in law. But it is good for a blog posting. It also makes me laugh when I see the "Do you hate your Christmas present? Sell it online and make money!" ad here on the Wanadoo home page. (on the French site)

Well, I'm off to watch some more TV with my daughter and be lazy again tonight! Don't you just LOVE vacation?

Merry and Bright!

I wish you all a merry holiday season!Today I am cleaning the house (thrilling) and shopping (oh, the crowds!) and getting everything set for the weekend with the family. In my spare time (hysterical laughter here) I'm perusing Miss Snark's Crapometer and learning a heckova lot about writing hooks. I'm impressed with so much of the writing - a few of the hooks have me hooked, and there are one or two books I'd actually love to read! (thinking about a YA fantasy hook with two princesses duking it out over the kingdom...) My son installed a new patch for my computer and it's working really well. The joys of having a computer literate child! Too bad he goes back to college on the 27th. He's looking for a place to stay in Columbus, Ohio while he goes to the university. Know any cheap, clean, decent places? My daughter thinks we've forgotten her Christmas and is moping. She's too cheerful a person to do any serious moping, but I can't wait to see her face on Christmas morning when she finds out we did not forget her, lol. Today I also have to take the meat out of the freezer for tomorrow - (note to self: Please don't forget!)Everything is glittering with frost here - the sun is just peeping over the horizon and it's making a lovely, peachy-silver light! May your day be Merry and Bright!

Get yer title here!

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Her Grace Lady Sam the Mystical of Featherstonehaugh St Fanshaw Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Das Versprechen

My daughter just came home from school with a surprise. Her German teacher had read my book 'The Promise', and liked it so much she translated it into German! She is a native German speaker, and I think she's done an awesome job. So here I am with a German manuscript of 'Das Versprechen' - which is a science fiction YA book about a world without adults. They all died during a plague brought on by a meteorite. The teacher is now busy translating 'Red Sky', and I absolutely have to call her. I never knew she was doing this, you see. She told me daughter, who sort of said one day that her teacher loved the Promise and was translating it - but I thought she meant she was translating it for herself to read, lol.

Anyhow, I'll try to get hold of an electronic copy of this so I can send it to friends in Germany!

And here is a wonderful sculpture that I found in an antique shop here. It's called the Voyager, and it's a protrait of Napolean Bonaparte leaving the battlefield. The cold wind is in his face, it blows his cloak, and pins his horse's ears back. The sculpture is amazing - and if you have about 55,000 euros, it can be yours! *sigh* I wish I could win the lottery.

Busy!!

This week has been a whirlwind, and if you know me, you'll know I hate whirlwinds. I am calm. I am collected. I am half comatose most of the time, lol, but this week has been a busy one. And of course, I get my edits! My editor is on vacation so I don't have to hand them in until After the holidays, but it just seemed funny that they arrived precisely this week.

It started with Saturday and the Village Christmas Fête!

Every year the village has a party for 'decking the halls' sort of thing - when they decorate the village tree and have a little 'tea' for the elderly. The kids in the village get together and present some sort of act. (This is amazing to me - the kids practice every Wednesday for two months to perfect everything. The little kids have their parents to help out - this year they dressed like cowboys and did a little square dance - too cute!)

And my daughter and her friend did a sort of modern dance with lots of high kicks and lifts, and it was pretty cool! Santa came with his donkey. (Yes, his donkey, lol)

Here is a picture of the village Santa:

He gave presents after the fête - and I wished I'd gotten a picture of him with his glass of champagne, lol!


Then Sunday was the Horse Fair, and of course I had to take my daughter to Paris to see that. Millions of people. Crowds. No parking. Driving in horrific traffic. My daughter was Thrilled.
I was exhausted. Monday was almost calm - just a lunch with friends, and then Tusday another lunch with another set of friends. Wednesday was the busiest day - five English lessons and then a trip to Paris for a book signing!
A friend of ours wrote a wonderful book about polo, and he asked me to do some illustrations for it, so I did and he took six of them and used them in the book. Here is a picture of me sitting next to him in Paris last night!

Charles Emmanuel de Bourbon-Parme and Moi at a book signing for the book 'POLO - A Sport to Discover' (by Charles-Emmanuel de Bourbon Parme). It's written in French and English - it's got wonderful photos and art work in it, and some very funny drawings by yours truly.

If you want a copy it's 29€ plus shipping from France. Just let me know.

Tomorrow I go pick up Alex at the airport at noon! He's coming home for the holidays - and his brother actually cleaned up their room for him!

:-)

grrrrr Blogger!

I hate the new blogger account. Now I have to log in twice, for some reason, and most of the time I can't comment on anyone's board. Have been trying. Is very frustrating. Hate the new Blogger account.
OK - rant over.
I have fixed up my sites with Holiday Cheer - check them out here and here.
Lots of news and new books and contest fun, so don't miss out!
This weekend I took my daughter to 'Le Salon de Cheval' (the Horse Fair) here in Paris. There were Tons of people, tons of horses, and lots of things to buy. I resisted buynig halters, saddles, blankets...Everything. My daughter was devestated. I was smug. My husband amazed.
My daughter does not know her Secret Christmas Present. Ha ha. She will not be depressed for long. My husband wants to buy her a saddle all her own. So, I'm off to search for saddles.
Is there anything you wish for? Long for? Need desperately?
I had to think about that. Can't say I need anything desperately. My laptop is still running (OK - the i key sticks a bit, but who needs 'i's? And my car just passed inspection, and my clothes still fit, and my husband's cousin gave me some great make-up last month, so I'm all set!
I bought some books for my husband, (he loves to read mysteries) and backpacks for the twins for college. Cool backpacks from Japan.
Anyhow, I have to go find a saddle now!
Later!

The Hammam

The other night, I went to a hammam. There were ten of us gals - we got together and decided to do a 'ladies' night'. So, we took out bathing suits, our sarongs, and our shampoo and we went to the ladies' night at the nearby Hammam.
It's in a market place, in the second floor, and it's run by six very nice women from Morocco.
First you undress and shower, and put on your bathing suit bottom. Then you go into a big room that's warm and kind of steamy. You cover yourself with 'black soap' which is liquid soap that smells like Marseilles soap (a little like liquid Neutrogena if I had to compare it with something) it’s a greasy soap that doesn't dry out your skin. Then you go into a hot steam bath sauna room. I could only stay 15 minutes - it was really hot. But it felt nice. Afterwards, the woman in the warm room strips your skin off with a rough glove. OK - not really - but that's what it felt like. You lie on a big tiled table, and she scrubs you from head to toe with what feels like a metal sponge, lol. Your dead skin comes off like gray sludge. You're left feeling like you've just been peeled. Then you shower again, and I couldn't stop touching my arms - So Smooth!! My skin was like a baby's skin - and not irritated at all (and believe me, I have allergies to just about everything!) Afterwards, we dried off, put on dry underwear and the sarong, and went to sit in a big room, drank mint tea, and chatted while we waited for our turn at the massage table. There, a very old and very energetic woman rubbed sweet almond oil all over me. She rubbed all the knots out of my muscles, sternly telling me to 'relax!' I finally relaxed. It felt great. My skin glowed. And it was SMOOTH. Then we got dressed and had a big couscous dinner prepared by the ladies. It was Very Good. I stuffed myself. Couscous is a typical North African dish. It's semolina served with lots of vegetables, chick peas, lamb, and spicy sausage. Afterwards there was more mint tea and 'gazelle horns' a delicate pastry with almonds.

(picture of a typical plate of couscous - minus the lamb and sausage)

I met a woman from Lebanon there - and what do two Lebanese gals do when they get together? They talk about the best way to make Kibbi Nayye! (Of course)
We got home around midnight - and my skin is Still Smooth!

& in other news:

Congrats to Orion - Great News! (check out her blog)

Still Writing & rambling

Still writing. Not done with the mystery book yet. Is getting to the exciting part. Bodies left and right now. Killer getting carried away.
I was wondering if I wasn't taking out some frustration on my characters. Sort of a therapy. Maim and kill with words and take out imaginary characters instead of losing one's temper and driving over the neighbor's cat who insists that your front garden is the only place it can pee.

Actually I don't have a problem with the neighbor's cat since it mysteriously disappeared a few months ago.

No, I'm making up stories again. The poor thing died of old age and obesity. I kept it out of my garden by shutting my front gate - it was too fat to leap up over the wall. My neighbors have a wonderful gourmet restaurant and the cat obviously got the leftovers.

In the village next door, there was another restaurant. It closed after two people were discovered buried in the back garden. A couple. Rumor has it that the man found his wife with another man. And that is what I heard for ages, until I found out from a policeman what really happened. Supposedly the couple were gypsies and had been blackmailing the owner for quite some time. Finally he snapped, shot them, and buried them in the garden.
How many people had dinner in the restaurant while the couple rotted in the ground? I never ate there - when we moved here that was already old news. It took me a while to find out the true story.
Even older news was the story of the man who lived in Gambais and he would go to Paris on the train, find a woman to come clean his house, kill her, and incinerate her in his oven. He's a famous French serial killer. They caught him because of the train tickets. A ticket to and from Paris, and just one ticket from Paris. A one way trip for some poor cleaning woman. That affair, heavily covered by newspapers at the time, was easy to verify. But people living in the village are not eager to talk about the affair. Not unusual - it must bring the property values down quite a bit...

In Houdan, not far away, another mystery was recently solved. A hundred years ago, a woman had been accused of putting arsenic in her husband's meal and poisoning him. His body tested positive for arsenic. So did her children, her mother in law, and everyone in the house. She was put on trial and convicted of murder and attempted murder of over fifteen people. She died in prison. About a hundred years later, a scientist and historian, curious about the affair and about the unusual geographical nature of the area, convinced the town to let him exhume and test the people in the cemetery. Turns out nearly everyone was full of arsenic. The ground water, it turns out, is poisoned. A sort of natural arsenic spring. The woman was declared innocent posthumously, but most people still talk about the 'Houdan poisoner'.

I like the fact that people prefer to think of the woman as guilty. It's more exciting, and besides, she's dead poor thing and can't defend herself. I wondered about other historical reputations, like that of the infamous Tokyo Rose, who was also acquited of spying, and yet still retains her reputation. Does history ever tell the truth? What about the princes in the tower? Did Richard kill them?
I think so. But there are people who disagree with that, saying that history has distorted the facts.
Since it's obvious that even history that's only a few yers old (the man who killed the couple in his restaurant) and a hundred years old (the poisoner from Houdan) can be twisted, imagine what many centuries of propaganda can do? I suppose we'll never find out what happened to the two princes in the tower.

Chicken Curry

For many years, I was the only cook in the house. My husband grew up in a household where he wasn’t even expected to set foot in the kitchen, and so it fell upon me to prepare the meals. I didn’t mind. I’m a creative person who likes to cook, although cleaning up is on my ‘ten worst things to do’ list. So the deal was made. I’d cook and he’d help clean up. I bought a couple pork chops and proceeded to render them inedible. My first attempt at cooking a whole meal was a fiasco.
I learned slowly.
My first success was turkey breast with cream sauce served with peas and carrots. I mastered this, and proceeded to serve it every night for three months. My husband’s uncle, who lived with us at that time because he was consulting surgeon for the Paris Ministry of Health, tells me that he cannot look at turkey without feeling ill now.
My husband, who is funny like that, would still be happily eating turkey with cream sauce – sometimes I wonder about him.
My husband & I moved to Florida around that time. Cooking, for me, was taking the car and going to the Kit’s Kosher Chicken and getting a grilled hen, then stopping at the supermarket for a ready-made salad and mashed potatoes. Or I’d put a hotdog in the microwave.
Then I had the twins, and when they started eating solid food, I became obsessed, no, let’s just say I was determined to give them a wide variety of food so that they wouldn’t become finicky.
As a child, I’d eaten only five things, and that until I was eighteen. I decided my kids would not be like me. So I had to expand my cooking abilities. I asked friends for recipes. I went to my grandparents' house and watched them cook. I bugged my mother for lessons. I’d left home at seventeen, and I’d never been interested in cooking, so my mother tried to teach me a few basics. She gave me a crash course in gravy making, how to boil an egg, and how to roast a whole chicken.
And then we moved to Argentina. We had a cook and a maid living in the house with us. I watched as Suzanne made empanadas and rice and beans. I learned how to barbecue beef. I found out how to make a tomato and onion salad, and I tried to learn how to make the delicious squash and chicken stew the Argentines make – but could never master it. Mostly in Argentina, we ate grilled meat and green salad. I learned how to make a spicy barbecue sauce and how to serve coffee there. After we went to Ureguay, where I learned how to make steamed mussels.
Our next stop was in the Dominican Republic. Again we had a maid and a cook, and again I begged to learn their recipes. So Luz showed me how to make red beans and rice, sliced beef and onion stew, and baked chicken, Dominican style. She also showed me how to make banana fritters, potato pancakes, and a delicious orange and onion salad.
By the time I moved back to France, I’d picked up a fair array of different recipes from all over the world. And to that, I added classical French cooking.

So what’s on the stove now, you ask?

Chicken curry with coconut sauce and cardamom seeds.
1 chicken cut up
4 or 5 onions, chopped
1 apple – chopped
2 cloves garlic
3 cardamom seeds
2 tablespoons curry
2 tablespoons coriander
1 can coconut milk
1 plain yoghurt
2 lemons
2 cups water
1 bouillon cube

Put chicken, onions, garlic, and apple in hot oil and fry until lightly golden. Add juice from one lemon, curry and cardamom, stir well. Add half the coconut milk, the water, and the bouillon cube. Bring to a boil then lower heat. Cook on low/medium heat for an hour. Add yoghurt and rest of coconut milk. Sauce should be thick. Add the coriander. Stir, add salt and pepper if needed.
Serve over rice with lemon wedges.
Enjoy!

Monday Monday

Sitting here listening to Queen singing 'We will Rock you'. It's hard not to sing along, lol.

Gray day. I'm going to Paris with some friends but not sure which day. Maybe tomorrow. Have to go Christmas Shopping!

Actually, I'm a terrible shopper, but I love to follow my friends around. They are super-shoppers, and they know all the best stores.

For example, we will go to 'Le Bon Marché', which is a huge department store built in the twenties in a wonderful art nouveau style. The whole store is beautiful. Then I want to go to the Chinese section of Paris, in the 14th district. It's like Chinatown in NYC, I guess, with many little shops selling everything Oriental. I also love walking around the old Latin quarter, St. Germain de Près. There too are lots of artistic shops with new creators and everything that is 'in' and 'brand new'!

And while I'm walking around Paris, I can't help look at the beautiful buildings and think that I'm lucky to live so close to the 'City of Lights'. In the evening, the Eiffel Tower will be lit up, and the navy blue night will be a velvet cloth strewn with the diamond lights of the Paris skyline.

Enough already!

I have been having a great Thanksgiving weekend. I got my flu shot, and my butt is sore, and I got the stitches out of my head which hurt worse than having them put in -
But I am thankful I won't get sick this winter, and my head's healed, so that's all right.
Enough with this complaining already!
It's raining - the dogs get mud all over the floor when they come in.
But I'm thankful to have two such nice dogs, with lovely waggy tails and loving eyes.
I can't seem to get any writing done, especially with the kids home this weekend. But I'm thankful to have my children with me, and the writing can be done later.
Tonight I'm going to a friend's house for dinner, and I'm thankful to have such a wonderful friend who lives so close. I have other wonderful friends who live far away, but I miss them terribly, along with my family. But at least I have people I miss terribly - can you imagine not missing anyone?
Winter is coming and my house is old and drafty - but at least the roof doesn't leak and I'm thankful to live in such a nice village. The garbage men just came around for their Christmas bonus (already!) but I'm thankful they come at all - so there.
Well, enough already with the thanks - but no, there is one more! I'm thankful for everyone who stops by to read my blog -
THANKS!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Here's wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving.
May you have many blessings, may you have good health, & may your turkey be tender!

The Shipwreck diet!

Congrats to Bonita who chose the shipwreck diet and won a copy of "A Grand Passion" - I hope you enjoy it!

What happened was this:
I lived in the Caribbean and we loved to take boat rides to the small, uninhabited islands nearby. One island, Hans Lollick, was off the coast of St. Thomas, and we could see it from our balcony. My neighbors invited my sister and I to go to the island one day. We took their motor boat, but as we arrived, the motor conked out. We put the anchor down and swam to the beach, and decided to wait until our mother called the coastguard. Night fell. Ferel donkeys on the island meant we had to stay near the beach, because they were feeling protective of their territory and would charge us if we wandered into the forest. We climbed along the cliff and looked for something to eat - coconuts? No. Fish? No fishing pole. What did we find? A can of ravioli a fisherman had left behind.
We built a fire and waited.
The coast guard came at around midnight. They had a big boat and had to stay out in deeper water. They shined their lights so we could swim out to them. I do NOT like swimming over reefs at night. Rule number one, do not make any splashes. Swim Quietly, lol.
It was a nice night and there was lots of phosphorescence. I leaned over to see it in the wake of the boat, and my glasses fell off.
The coast guard took us to the docks where my mom picked us up. I was Starving. I did not want to eat an old can of ravioli. My mom was furious that I lost my glasses. No dessert for a week.
The shipwreck diet:
One can of ravioli. No dessert for a week.
LOL.

Guess the Diet Contest

I was just reading a blog and the blogger made me laugh (she's a slushpile reader with an agent) about a submission about a diet book. (The Rejector)

And I came up with three brand new diets:

There's the "Basic Training" diet. Signing up for the army and doing basic training is a great way to lose weight. I'm surprised no one has written about that yet.

There's also the tried but true 'Hermit Diet' which consists of sitting cross-legged and naked on a stone, and eating only what the pilgrims bring.

And there there is the "Shipwrecked" diet: only eat what you can find on a tiny island in the middle of nowhere.


OK guys - you know me, right? Which diet did I try and will subsequently tell you about? (Which resulted in very little weight loss, and I will tell you why after you've guessed!)
And to make it more fun, the first person to guess right will get a free download of their choice! On your mark, get set, GO!

Autumn!

The leaves are finally turning gold here, but the weather is still balmy. We had a few days of frost, but it turned warm and rainy again, and today there is a lovely mix of clouds and light in the sky. The leaves on the forsithia tree right outside my window here are pale yellow, and when the light shines through it it turns everything golden. On the hill the trees are turning rust and brown. I will have to go out and take the dogs (and my camera) for a walk.
I wish I'd taken my camera this morning as I drove to town. There was a tractor plowing in a field. The sun warmed earth was steaming in the pale morning light, cherry trees behind him were red and orange, and dark clouds, almost violet, seemed to underline the rising sun. Autumn is such a lovely time of year. Until it starts raining. And then everything is gray - the sky, the earth, the trees, and the stone houses. Dreary! But not today!
I am still plodding on with my WIP. It's a new project - I've never attempted a murder mystery - so I'm sort of feeling my way forward. I like my characters, and right now one is about to do something, well, awful. She's a secondary character, so I'm not going to dwell on her, but her actions will set something in motion that will hurt a lot of people in the book, but ultimately will solve the crime. So often good things do come out of bad things. Sometimes you have to wait and see the end result - step back and not judge until everything has settled down and the results are in. This character is like a catalyst, and if she doesn't do this terrible thing, then the murderer will keep on killing. It's sort of the theme I'm working into the fabric of the story. We'll see what happens with it!
LOL

Happy Veteran's day, Bingo & a Pig's head

We gathered in the village square this morning to hear a speech from the mayor, listen to the recital of the names of the dead soldiers, and sing the National Anthem. As usual, there was a good turnout with much of the village present. There was a little coctail afterwards at the town hall. I just can't seem to drink wine before lunch though. Luckily they had orange juice!

And, we played BINGO in the village hall tonight! It was the first time the village organized a bingo game, so it was a bit rough around the edges - microphone problems - way too hot in the room - a family showed up that was The Family from HELL - But otherwise it was fun.
We (my daughter and I) didn't win anything. But there were some cool prizes. And one prize was...
A Pig's head.
No kidding. The WHOLE thing. Pink and cooked and sitting on a tray. It was a prize given by a local butcher. He also donated three meters of blood sausage and some hams. There were lots of umbrellas to win - some flowers and plants, a vacuum cleaner, a microwave oven, a CD player.
The Family from Hell. One of the boys had a whistle and would, every time the number 22 was announced, blow it piercingly. It made everyone jump. Once was cute. Every single time was Really Annoying. They also won a Christmas tree and a showerhead. You'd think they'd be more cheerful - but they whined and bitched and scowled and blew their stupid whistle all night. Ewwwwwww. The pig's head looked vaguely like the boy who kept blowing the whistle....
Anyhow.
It was fun. I saw some people I haven't seen in ages. Even if we all live in a tiny village - we don't always run into each other. I like this woman called Gabby, but she works all the time. Tonight I got to sit and chat for a while with her. She is Swiss, and speaks German. My daughter needs German lessons. Gabby's son is doing badly in English. So Gabby and I have made a tutoring deal - we'll swap kids once a week and tutor them. LOL! So, see why you should go to Bingo games?
It's late now, and everyone is in bed. I'm insomniac because I drank too much coffee at the Bingo game. That will teach me! I want to go to sleep but the coffee was NOT decaffinated.
(I keep wondering what the winner of the Pig's Head will do with it? I suppose it's for eating - but...how?)

Auguste as a Centipede

Here is a picture of Auguste in teh costume my daughter made for him on Halloween. He didn't mind it at all - probably thought he looked super-cool.
Rusty just yawned and went back to sleep.

My Dog is Houdini, but he's no rocket scientist.

Auguste is a small wire haired dachshund. You pronounce his name the French way -
"Oh-Goosed!"
And when I let him out in the back garden he immediatly makes plans to escape. Not that I have a small garden - it's very big, has an apple orchard, several stone walls, a couple sheds, and lots of play space. But Auguste dreams of adventure. So he goes to the wire fence (It's pretty overgrown with vines and such, being built at least 30 years ago) and he noses around until he finds a chink in it. Then he digs.
Dachshunds, as everyone knows, were bred to hunt badgers, which as everyone knows, live in huge underground galleries. Badgers are the most dangerous animals for a dog to hunt because the make special tunnels into which they lure their enemies, and then they collapse the tunnel on top of them, burying them alive.
All this is just to tell you that in order to breed a dog able to dig out badgers, the breeders had to find something pretty special. So, they crossed a small terrier-type dog with Houdini. I'm not even going to imagine how they did it. But the fact is, these dogs can get out of anything. My dog's breeder informed me (before I bought Auguste) that his dog dug his way out of a cement courtyard. I didn't believe it...then.
So, I have to walk around the edge of my garden every single day and block the holes Auguste digs at the base of the fence with large rocks.
This is where I'm lucky: Houdini was no rocket scientist. Auguste goes to almost exactly the same spot each time. So, bit by bit, I'm building a stone wall in his escape hatch. He keeps trying to dig around it. But so far, I've been able to (mostly) keep him penned in.

This is where it gets funny.
I have a Labrador retriever too. She does not dig. She likes to sleep. She likes to lie on the grass and snooze. Auguste is a playful guy. He likes to chew on the Lab's ears and feet, and that drives Rusty (our Lab) crazy.
SO - Rusty has decided to help Auguste escape.
She is bigger than he is and can hook her paws over the rocks and move them. Then she sits back and lets Auguste dig. He gets loose. She goes back to her spot on the grass and lies down. Peace at last. I see Auguste is missing and run outside to catch him before he gets into too many adventures. (There are 3 chicken farms in my village, remember).

So far, I'm keeping up with Houdini. (Thank goodness they didn't cross him with a rocket scientist.)

MOVIE QUIZ TIME!

(Lifted from December's blog) Okay, it's this quizie thingie is where I pick my favorite movies, and choose a quote from each one, and now you guys have to guess the movie from the quote and I'll write your name next to it when you guess it.


Have FUN!


1: -"Don't shoot! It's the dynamite! If you shoot it, it will get mad at us and blow us all up!"

2: -"There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends." (Harry Potter - Feyrhi)

3:"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." (Lord of the Rings - December)

4: "But why is the rum gone?" (Pirates of the Caribbean - CotBP)

5: "If either of you boys says "war" just once again, I'll go in the house and slam the door." (Gone with the Wind - December)

The villagers are Perplexed

A couple years ago, my sons killed Halloween in the village. It wasn't really their fault - Halloween tried to make a splash in France and ended up as a flop. No one really got excited about it except the kids and a few parents, but the village fête commitee, bowing to publicity and the fact that Halloween was in fact invented by the Celts and the Celts, as everyone knows, originated in France SO...(ipso factum whatever) and voila - the French embraced Halloween for a couple years and then it faded, helped along by my sons decision to dress as terrorists and bombard the village with beebees and take All the candy.
ANYHOW - a few kids (mine - still) dress up and still make the rounds. But the French are mostly perplexed. "Bon bons ou Farce!" the kids scream.
The villagers open their doors. "What cute costumes. What do you want?"
"Candy!"
"Well, I don't have any. But here are some...": (What follows is an actual list of what the kids brought home)
2 bottles of water
1 whole baking chocolate bar
A handful of walnuts
2 euros
A brand new box of Belgium chocolates
Several candy bars
A bag of sours
Caramels
A box of cookies.

The kids are estatic and the dogs are tired (having accompanied kids all over village. Dogs were dressed up too. August was a centapede.
I wish I could post photos but blogger is acting up - I'll try to post on my Sam's Shots page.

And on another note, I entered Miss Snarks contest and got an honerable mention as 'Best nod to the Bard', lol (#23)
Yay!

The death of Halloween

Halloween is dead and has been for centuries. But even though it's dead, it still holds a certain spine-tingly reminant of what it was before.

I remember as a kid getting all excited about Halloween. We lived on a farm, so my mom had to load us in the stationwagon (no seatbelts then) and drive us around. We sat clutching our big paper grocery bags, our masks slipping off our faces, until we arrived in another farm. Then my sister and I would be let out in front of various houses out in the country. My mom would wait in the car with our baby brother.
We'd trot up to the front door and knock, then hold our bags out and say 'Trick or Treat'! There would be a moment of "Oh How cute! Come here, Harvey, look at the little princess (my sister) and the witch! (me). Then candy or an apple would land in our bag and I'd turn around and my sister would hiss 'Say Thank you!'
That was Halloween. The next day (or even that night) I'd eat all my tootsie rolls and candy bars, and start eyeing my sister's candy. (She saved it until at least Christmas, eating a tiny bite a day...)
And that was Halloween.
Until that fateful day when a rumor swept the land. A razor had been found in an apple. It wasn't even ture - being an urban legend - but it swept across the US like a wildfire and changed Halloween forever.
Before, no one had ever imagined that someone could willfully set out to harm a child with Halloween candy or apples. But now it was the only thing anyone thought about. Now, our mother marched up to the front door with us. She would examine the candy, and any apples inevitably landed in the trash.
Who started that rumor?
I often wondered if it was the Thanksgiving turkey association, fed up with Halloween taking attention away from the upcoming fête. Or maybe it was an apple-hating club, determined to ruin apple farmers everywhere.
Whatever it was or who is was, Halloween was no longer innocent but malevolant. And maybe it became closer to what Halloween was originally about. In the dark ages when the religions were still fledgling and memories of human sacrifice, druids and witches were still fresh, Halloween was a terrifying night when the gates to the spirit world were opened and evil spirits walked. Turnips and gourds were carved into terrible faces to frighten the spirits away, and sometimes candles were set inside to even better effect. The ancestor of the Jack-O-Lantern was a hollowed out turnip meant to keep evil away from the house.

Now that Halloween has become a commercial holiday devoid of any meaning except costumes, candy, and pumpkins, we can take a moment to think back to when Halloween was alive and mankind believed that the dead walked the earth on All Hallow's Eve, intent on stealing souls.

Happy Halloween!!!!!!!

Storms, bells, & more deadlines

Last night the barometer dipped down below 1000, which is pretty low, and the wind sounded like a freight train all night and until this morning. In the north of France, and on the coast, there was a lot of damage but we just got the edges of the storm and only the leaves fell.
(The bells are still ringing. The repair man has not come. The mayor said - helpfully - "Well, you can always sleep with earplugs!")
I replied in a Very strong Texan accent - "How Nice."
Of course, nobody in the mayor's office got that, but Andrea - if you're reading this blog, I hope you swallowed your coffee first.

More about deadlines. I have this annoying habit of saying 'yes' to everything. I now have 4 English students (children) and 1 adult. I swore I'd never teach adults again - they just don't listen. I think after 13 the brain disconnects from the ears and I REALLY admire high school teachers. ANYHOW. I said yes, and now I have another chunk of time gone. Time for preparing the lesson and time giving the lesson that I should be spending writing...LIke time on the blog - lol. And I do have a deadline. SO - NanoWrime to the rescue!!! I will write every spare minute during November and get 50k done. YES.

I went to gym this morning and it was cold in the gym and my back is stiff. I think it's because it was cold while I was working out. I'm off to yoga tonight to try and stretch my back out. Yoga is the BEST for a sore back.

*%!@!# Churchbells!!

The churchbells are broken. In French, we say 'Déglangué' which is slang for broken. You pronounce it 'Day-Glang-Gay' which is a fun word to say, and even sounds like what it is - completely screwed up.
The result is the bells ring all day and night, every hour and half hour. But the clock is off, so that it says 6:00 when it's 8:28 for example, and so you can't tell time by the bells or the clock - but they woke me up all night and I'm wiped out.
Actually, I slept through most of the bells, but at 5 a.m. I heard them and shot out of bed, thinking my alarm hadn't gone off and thinking my son had missed his train and my daughter her bus. So I'm staggering around at 5 a.m. trying not to wake hubby, and I grab my alarm clock to see what's the matter, and I see it's only 5 a.m., and I'm afraid I said a bunch of Very Bad Words - not including déglangué. I tried to go back to sleep, but just knowing the damn bells were going to ring again in half an hour kept me wide awake. Of course now I'm falling asleep on my keyboard and the five pages I promised myself to write are still in my head.
Argh.
I need more sleep and more coffee!
And then as soon as the town hall opens, I'm storming over there to let off a bit of steam (politely, of course) and threaten dire action if the bells are not put under control. (still in a polite tone of voice - and with a smile - but maybe a hint of hysteria too.) LOL.

The Weekend

Today I was up early (churchbells ring every monrning at 8:00, but somehow my brain is afraid of being woken up by the bells, so I'm always awake earlier. It happens when I set me alarm too. If I set it for 7 a.m. I'll wake up at five to seven, and if I set it for six, the same thing happens. I think my brain is scared of being woken up by bells and alaems! Too strange. Anyhow, I woke up and saw that the workers had come to cut the hedge, so I went to talk to them and tell them what I needed done. They have a tractor and trailor, so I won't have a huge pile of brush left over. Then I had to take my son and his friend to the train station. And now I'm getting ready to go to the pony club with my daughter. Maybe I'll bring a book and read while she has her lesson.
Right now, she's stuck in front of 'The Horse Whisperer', and as much as I love Robert Redford, I always thought this story was purely ridiculous. It drives me nuts, but there are some pretty scenes and the music isn't half bad. (and there is Robert...lol) But what a stupid story. I hated the book too, as I recall. It was one of my wallbangers.
(list of bestselling wallbangers:)
The Horse Whisperer
The Da Vinci Code
Something Bones (can't even remember the title, but I hated that book)
Do you have a list of bestselling wallbangers??
Have a great weekend!

my rant against Madonna

I just have to rant. Sorry. If you think what she did was wonderful, fine. Because it's true - who wouldn't want to be adopted by Madonna? Heck, I have two boys I'd love for her to adopt and put through college. And they already have their drivers license and most of their vaccinations.
But let's say I'm an African and my wife died and I can't pay to take care of my infant son. I'm human, so I'm frantic with worry. I put my son in an orphanage temporarily. (this is what the father said in an interview with the NY Times, so I'm not making this part up.) Now say a celeberity has decided to adopt a child from my country, and wouldn't you know, she picked my little boy!
I'm thrilled. He'll have everything he wants.
I'm devestated. He's my son, and I'll never see him again. He'll legally belong to someone else.

What is the matter with this picture?
Well, for one thing, I can't imagine the pain the father must have suffered. First losing his wife, then two of his other children, and now losing this child to a media blast.
Is there anything wrong with the way the Africans live? Is their way of life so dreadful that when someone adopts a child and takes him far from his culture and roots it's something to rejoice about? And if so - how come we're all sitting on our butts and not doing anything about it?

OK, we can't all run out and adopt an African. And frankly, I don't think that's the answer. There is nothing wrong with the African way of life if the country is not in the throes of famine or drought or corruption. And we can argue for hours about why Africa is in such a mess, and why we Europeans and Americans are responsible. And why the World Bank is sinking Africa even deeper into debt and misery, and why the huge diamond, uranium, and oil companies are making life hell in Africa (and on the rest of the planet) And you can argue that it's better to grow up in Hollywood than in Malawi. I'd agree. But I've been to Africa, and I've seen children there. I've seen them playing, running, singing, and getting hugs like any other kid. And they herd goats and go to school where they have to sit on the floor, and they have all kinds of strange customs and religions, and beliefs...but that's what makes African children unique.
And I have two boys in Kenya who I put through school. They are in their last year now, and I'm terribly proud of them. Now why didn't I adopt them and bring them to France? I could have tightened my budget, made a few sacrifices, and offered them a life and education in France. After all, education here, including the university, is free. So why didn't I adopt them? Well, what about their country? Doesn't their country deserve to have two such nice, well educated young men? And don't these two young men deserve the chance to help their country by getting a good education and becoming prosperous citizens? In what way has Madonna really helped this child and its family? In what way has she helped the country?
If all you can do to help Africa is take away its children, then you might as well just forget about Africa. Forget that it was the cradle of civilization, that humans evolved from the Rift Valley, and that our genetic Eve was from Africa. Forget the music, the art, and the stories that came from Africa. Forget its ethnies and its myriad different cultures...because they will all turn to Hollywood dust. Forget the beauty of Africa and its diversity. Just take the children away and give them lots of money and everything money can buy. Is that really doing any good at all?
Frankly, it makes me ill.

Sesame Street Quizz!

I'm probably dating myself here, but my sister and I just LOVED sesame street!

Elmo
You scored 56% Organization, 66% abstract, and 57% extroverted! This test measured 3 variables.

First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean.

Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type.

Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert. By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more about herself.

You are mostly organized, more abstract, and both introverted and extroverted.

Most people either love or hate Elmo. I hope you love Elmo, because that's who you are.

You are both somewhat organized. You have a good idea where you put things and you probably keep your place reasonably clean. You aren't totally obsessed with neatness though. Elmo has the same basic approach. His place is pretty tidy, but he doesn't spend all of his time cleaning it up.

You both are abstract thinkers. You definitely are not afraid to take chances in life. You only live once. You may notice others around you playing it safe, but you are more concerned with not compromising your desires, and getting everything you can out of life. This is a very romantic approach to life, but hopefully you are also grounded enough to get by. Elmo's whole life is based on fantasy and his imagination. In the beginning he was a regular character, but now he spends most of his time in this fantasy world.

You are both somewhat extroverts. Like Elmo, you probably like to have some time to yourself, but you do appreciate spending time with your friends, and you aren't scared of social situations. Elmo spends some of his time with real friends, but he also needs some time just to chat it up with his goldfish.

The other possible characters are
Oscar the Grouch
Big Bird
Cookie Monster
Ernie
Snuffleupagus
Kermit the Frog
Grover
The Count
Guy Smiley
Bert

(take the quizz here: http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=4525550649363613939 )

a horse show in the countryside

Yesterday was my daughter's first horse show. She has been mad about horses since she was a baby. My father used to carry her around the farm, show her the horses, and taught her to whinny before she could talk! My husband used to put her on the saddle with him and gallop around the polo field when she was just a toddler, and she started riding ponies when she was three. At eight I enrolled her in the pony club. Now she's twelve, and she has begged me to let her try competition. We don't have a farm anymore, nor anyplace (or enough money!) to keep a horse. But her pony club has a competition section, which is very inexpensive, and each month they go to a different club and compete. So, I enrolled my daughter and she has been training hard. And yesterday was the first show! It was in a farm that had been built in the middle ages as a fortified manor, so the first thing you see upon arriving is a huge tower and a moat. There is a high coach gate leading to a vast inside courtyard, with climbing roses and red vine on the stone walls. The show was just outside the old manor in a sandy, shady ring. There were a dozen jumps, and about fifty children of all sizes, with fifty ponies and horses of various colors and sizes. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, and they had set up a tent near the moat with a coffee and sandwich stand. The group my daughter was in was a very eclectic one - some children were very good, others toppled off their ponies after one jump. Nobody was hurt, there were a few tears (one little girl rode into the ring, took a look at the crowd, and rode right out again) Everyone was terrific and supportive. Clapping for all contestants was a must. When a child got confused and forgot the course, there were words of encouragement and directions shouted out! The boy who won had a wonderful spotted pony and rode as if he had been a pro all his life! My daughter's pony, a wise, 15 yr old pumpkin orange fellow by the name of 'Gamin' went around in a steady canter, and only refused two jumps at the end when my daughter was too tired to hold him with her legs. She made him get over the two jumps, and he did it delicately, as if sensing her fatigue. At the end she hugged his neck and recieved a warm round of applause. She was thrilled, it was her first show! for pictures go here

Eeek! Spiders and a deadline

I wanted to write more about life in France; I was having this great conversation yesterday while in Paris with two other ex-pat pals (one from Spain and one from the US) - we were complaining about the French (so what else is new, lol) & about how bloody RUDE the servers are, lol, and how much bureaucracy they have. We complained and complained. It felt great. Anyhow, afterwards I had to stop at the US embassy to get a paper signed and notorized and that took ages (security to get in is now tighter than ever, which means prepare to empty your bag, take off your watches and jewelry, and don't ask the nice security guard if you can throw your dirty kleenex into the trash can. He actually jumped. Then I had to go to window 7 and get a folder, proceed to window 3 to pay, (30$ to notorize a signature?!) then go to window 4 and wait until they call your name, then proceed to window 5 to sign the paper and get it stamped.
(I am NOT kidding. I went to four windows to get one paper signed.) So I thought maybe the French weren't actually the worst for bureaucracy - they might now be tied with the US embassy. Although the French still get the worst drivers and rudest waiter prizes.
Then I went home and had to clean out my garage because the roof is coming down - the owner is replacing it. And we (my kids and I) started to clear out the boxes and there are Huge Spiders in my garage. We all sort of stared at the biggest one, sitting on the box we wanted to move, and my son said, 'I will not touch that.' I said, 'It's not so big' (it was about the size of a cat) and my daughter said, 'I'll get the broom, and you can sweep it away, mom'. I agreed, (never show fear to your kids - sort of like wild animal training) and I took the broom and tried to pretend it was one of those plastic tarantulas you see. And it almost worked. I swiped, the spider skittered, and we all ran screaming from the garage. So much for bravery.

And today I looked at my schedule and discovered I have a DEADLINE.
Eeek.
It is now officially LOOMING.
I just hope I have enough coffee in the house.

I am a genius!

Well, not really. And I'm not an electrician. Anyone else would have had electricity. I called my electrician. (this is France, remember, and I am WAY out in the countryside.)
Me: Hi Sophie, I need Laurent to come right away - half my house is in the dark.
Sophie: Bonjour Jennifer - the problem is Laurent is away for the weekend - he went hunting.
Me: That's all right, I'll make do with candles. Will you ask him to stop by on Monday?

On Monday night I get a call from Sophie - she tells me her husband will be in very late, if I don't mind, he could stop by around nine or ten. I tell her I'll be glad to wait. (in the dark - candles burning.)

Then I get inspired. I look at the electric box. The little cartridge thingies that go in the slots. I don't know what they are called, but I have a box of them in different sizes. I start replacing them, one by one. Suddenly there is a 'pop' and the lights in the house go on! I have repaired the electricity using little cartridge thingies. I am a genius. Except I have no idea what I actually did, or what the thingies are called. Feeling half triumphant, half retarded, I call the electrician and tell him not to bother coming - I have fixed my problem. Voila.
The next night I see him and his wife in yoga class, and he told me that what I had was a fuse box and what I'd changed was a fuse.
Voila.