#Fashion Complaints by Christine DePetrillo

If you've visited the Roses of Prose blog before, you've no doubt heard me tell of my fashion incompentence. I have no style. I have no desire to put outfits together. I wear black and... some more black. I'm beginning to see, however, that perhaps the blame is not to be placed solely upon me.

The clothes available "out there" stink.

I recently visited a local shopping plaza with the mission of buying some new spring clothes in mind. I was in a good mood. I was determined. I was open minded.

And yet, it was still an EPIC FAIL. Mission incomplete. Headed home empty-handed.

I roamed the women's clothing section of one popular store, picking up anything that caught my eye and even some things I wouldn't have normally chosen. I was trying to be different. I was trying to not be so black and gray. I was trying to experience some level of fashion success.

How can one experience success though when the way clothes are made nowadays (oh, good heavens, I sound like an old lady here)... the way clothes are made nowadays is... well... pretty crappy.

First of all, this at-the-ankle trend for pants? Umm, how about a big ol' NO! Maybe it's supposed to be cute, but on me it just looks like my damn pants shrunk. I'm okay with capri pants and pants that meet my shoes, but that at-the-ankle fad look is downright awful. Someone once told me I had giraffe legs--and they weren't wrong--but picture a giraffe wearing at-the-ankle pants and that's what I look like.

I ain't wearing those pants!

Secondly, dresses with belts. Why? A belt's function is to hold something up at the waist. A dress is once piece. What is that belt holding? Nothing! It's holding nothing. It's purely an accessory. An accessory with no purpose. I hate things with no purpose. I also loathe those thin threads on the left and right of the waist to hold the belt in place on the dress. Those loops just further highlight the unnecessity of the belt! AND... AND... there's never enough holes on the belt to get it where it needs to be on my waist. Then there's that remaining part that just flaps around because it falls in a weird place and can't be secured by the aforementioned thread loops. Ugh.

What in the world is this belt accomplishing? 

Thirdly, ripped jeans. I'm sorry, but I work too hard for my money to spend it on ripped stuff. Besides, I rip stuff on my own just fine. I don't need the factory to do that for me. When I do it myself, each rip has a tale of its own and that's cool. Brand new jeans with rips are not cool. I get that it's sort of girl-next-doorish, but does it have to be girl-next-doorish-who-just-wrestled-a-grizzly-bear-and-her-pants-took-the-worst-of-it?

Does her knee get cold?

Lastly, high heeled sandals. To me, warm weather means bare feet in grass, sand, soil, water, whatever. A thin, cushioned layer when walking long distances over hot pavement is sensible, but some of the sandals I see with all these strappy parts and high heels and rhinstones and, to my great horror, that little part that separates the big toe from the other toes... shudder. I can't even think about it. My feet boycott such notions.

They don't show her face because she's grimacing in pain with every step.

So these are just some of my fashion complaints. I have more... such has sleeveless shirts with a high collar. If I don't want sleeves so I can keep cool, I definitely don't want anything closed up tight around my neck. That's going to suffocate me!

I did try on all of the above and promptly tore each one off in the fitting room. When I walked out and hung it all on that little rack they have, an employee asked me how I made out.

Lady, don't get me started...

What fashion trends burn you up? C'mon. You don't like everything out there either. Be honest.

Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

Spring has sprung

I'm sorry for the quick post this month but there's been a lot going on. My fourth book: COLD HEARTED VAMPIRE is with the copy editor. We've picked out the excerpt, blurb, and tag line. The cover artist is at work creating the cover. Everything indicates a publication date later this year. Hoping for late summer or fall.

I've added another member to the household:

 I got Zap (on the left) from the shelter Jan. 11, 2017, and I've already posted about him. He'd been mistreated, poor guy. Update: he is still a little hesitant at times. Especially, around large men but I think he's doing great.

The newest (on the right) is a 5 months old, Corgi/Heeler. His owner was going to take him to the pound so I brought him home with me late March 31, 2017. He wasn't housebroken (hadn't been inside a house at all) no shots, and no manners. In less than a month - as you can see by the picture - he's now sitting on command. Potty training is going quite well and the three of us are settling in.

I live on 34 acres and keep about 5 or 6 acres mowed. This feels like a full time job. I'm also clearing out some rock and brush, and have discovered snakes are abundant this year. 

I've also found myself knee deep in poison ivy.
  This kind

Not this kind...







   

R.E.Mullins: author of vampire/romances with a hint of intrigue.

Check out my new webpage at:
remullins.com 

 Buylinks:  Amazon   The Wild Rose Press

Spring & a New Release by Diane Burton

Where has the year gone? It’s the end of March already. I know that’s not very original. We all seem amazed at the quick passage of time. Remember when we were kids and time dragged? Spring has finally come to Michigan. I don’t dare say it’s the end of snow. If past years are any indication, we’ll get more—hopefully, only flurries. Trees and bushes are budding and spring bulbs are poking their heads through the dirt.

Easter will be here before we know it, and that signals the release of my newest book. Connecting a religious holiday with a PI mystery probably sounds sacrilegious. In recent posts, I promised to have The Case of the Meddling Mama published by Spring, then I narrowed it done to by Easter. This is the book that seemed to take forever to finish. And I have no idea why. I love my character. Alex O’Hara is quirky, fun, and gets into almost as many scrapes as Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum. Alex’s main squeeze Nick is a mystery. He comes and goes at the will of his employer, a secret government agency. A hot topic in today’s news—opioid addiction—is featured in the story.

Even though the manuscript is with my editor-extraordinaire, our own Alicia Dean, Meddling Mama is up for pre-order on Amazon and Kobo at a reduced price. You might think that’s an odd combination. I have a good reason. Amazon covers the U.S. and its subsidiaries hit most other countries. Kobo is huge in the rest of the world. Amazing the things you find out on writer loops. I’d never even heard of Kobo when I first started to self-publish. The Case of the Meddling Mama will be available at most online vendors on April 17, the day after Easter.

My wonderful cover designer, Florence Price at The Novel Difference, did a fabulous job on the cover. When I started the series, she suggested we use the same scene but change with the seasons. The Case of the Meddling Mama takes place in Spring, so she added pots of tulips in front of Alex’s office. Although people are enjoying a sunny day at the beach, they’re too smart to go into Lake Michigan’s frigid waters. A big event in West Michigan is Tulip Time, a week of Dutch-themed parades, crafts, food, and dancing. Of course, I had to add that to the story that takes place in the fictional resort town of Far Haven, similar to Holland, Michigan.

Here’s a little bit about The Case of the Meddling Mama.

Blurb:

Once again, Alex O’Hara is up to her ears in mysteries. After surviving an attempted murder, all she wants is R&R time with Nick Palzetti. But his mother leaving his father (“that horse’s patoot”) and moving in with Alex puts a crimp in their plans. Then Nick leaves on assignment and the teen she rescued from an abusive father believes his buddy is doing drugs. Meanwhile, Alex has two easy cases to take her mind off her shaky relationship with Nick—a philandering husband and a background check on a client’s boyfriend. Piece of cake.

Excerpt:

When two women entered the exclusive dress shop, Ellie left to greet them while her assistant chivvied me to put on the shoes. White socks, black strappy heels, and the gorgeous emerald green bridesmaid dress. I made such a fashion statement as I stood on the platform. Call Vogue.

I so didn’t want to be there, especially when I recognized one of the women. I’d been the bearer of bad news to Nora Finley last week. Her Mr. Perfect turned out to be a Black Widower. He and his cohorts had the perfect plan to kill her. A plan I thwarted just in time.

“Oh, you’re here,” Nora cried out when she spotted me and tugged on her companion’s wrist, practically dragging her over. “Ginnie, this is the PI that saved my life. Alex O’Hara!”

I cringed while heat bloomed in my cheeks.

Nora looked up at me. “I’ve been telling Ginnie here that she absolutely must hire you to check out her boyfriend. She met him on one of those online dating sites.”

Ginnie winced, like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. I knew the feeling.

The Case of the Meddling Mama is now available for pre-order at $1.99.

Amazon ~ Kobo

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. When she isn’t writing cozy mysteries, like the Alex O’Hara PI series, she’s writing science fiction romance and romantic suspense. She’s a regular contributor here on the 30^th of the month, at Paranormal Romantics on the 13^th, and on her own blog every Monday.

Immigration Chaos by Betsy Ashton

Whites, browns, yellows, blacks

Screeching, shoving—

Gang warfare @ the bird feeder

It's that time of year again. My bird feeder is collapsing under the weight of all the birds migrating north and immigrating to summer ranges where I live.

Who knew the mixed flocks could eat through ten pounds of seed every day? And more, if I filled a second feeder, but I don't. One is enough right now. One is all my kitty can monitor. No, she doesn't eat birds, but they keep her mesmerized for hours, both when she's inside on her perch and outside on the deck under the feeder.

Who knew cardinals could be so grumpy early in the morning? Bright red and looking miserable with hunched shoulderc, the male glared at me this morning. He was sitting next to the feeder, which he and the missus had drained of food. He was not amused until I refilled, and he had his turn to get a bellyful.

Who knew the mixed flocks would arrive so early? I didn't. Is this a sign of global warming, or the result of a shared message on the bird underground—plenty of food at the log house in the woods by the big lake?  Could be either. 

Who knew smaller woodpeckers and nuthatches actually come to bird feeders? I've seen plenty of nuthatches over the years, but the small woodpeckers were a welcome addition. At least I welcomed them. Not too sure about the grumpy cardinal.

Who knew titmice (titmouses??) were bullies? I always thought the blue jays were the bullies, but they aren't here yet. I've watched titmice dive bomb the kitty when she was peacefully minding her business on the lower deck under the feeder. I've watched them beat the Carolina chickadees away, so that they had to snatch a beakful and head for a branch. No sitting on the feeder perch and eating his fill for the saucy male chickadee.

Thank goodness the pileated woodpeckers wait until the carpenter bees drill holes in our house. Then, they rat-a-tat their way into the nest. The bees leave perfectly round holes; the woodpeckers leave ugly gouges. This week has been too cold for the carpenter bees. Glad the woodpeckers have been hammering on trees further down the block. What a wonderful wake up call at dawn.

Who knew how much fun it could be watching the warring birds beat each other nearly silly over a beakful of seed? 

I'm so glad squirrels don't have prehensile tails, of the grumpy cardinal would be even grumpier.

###

Betsy Ashton is the author of Mad Max Unintended Consequences and Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery. She has a new short story in 50 Shades of Cabernet. Her works have appeared in several anthologies and on NPR.

Is It Spring?

Or is Mother Nature teasing us?

The snow is gone. The temp is supposed to get into the mid-sixties today. Despite the large dumping of snow last Wednesday and again on Saturday, the ducks are back in the pond. And for three days in a row, the sun is shining.

Gotta be Spring.

Then again, the worst snowstorm I’ve ever been in occurred on St. Patrick’s Day. Newly married, Hubs and I took a weekend vacation Up North (what Michiganders call traveling north of the middle of the state). Hubs has fond memories of time spent at a church camp near Grayling as a camper and as business manager. On Saturday, we took a leisurely walk through Hartwick Pines (an old growth forest) where a light snow was falling. As we drove south planning to visit friends in Lansing, the snow increased. Traffic slowed. Cars spun off into ditches or the median. Hubs’ knuckles turned white as he struggled to keep our car on the road. When we passed a snow plow stuck in the median, we decided it was time to get off the highway. Apparently, so did a lot of other people. We got the last motel room in Alma. After that, they started putting people up in the high school gym. And the state police closed the highway.

The next morning, the snow had stopped. The sun came out. The highway was open. I’m sure there have been worse storms since then, but none that I’ve been in.

Is Spring here? Or will we get dumped on again? You never know. One thing I’ve learned about Michigan weather is to expect the unexpected.

My latest PI mystery, The Case of the Fabulous Fiancé, takes place around this time of year. It starts in winter and ends with the hint of Spring. Despite the weather, Alex O’Hara runs every day. She’s a hardy Michigan girl who doesn’t let snow deter her. Rain, yes. Not snow. What’s putting a cramp in her investigation business is no receptionist, phone and internet problems, and three new cases. Plus, her boyfriend disappeared over two months ago. What’s a girl to do? She keeps on keeping on.

Spring has sprung by Barbara Edwards

I had the first sign of Spring this week, despite the remaining snow and cold temperatures. The flower catalogue arrived. Ah, how I love to browse through the pictures of blooming flowers. I want them all.

Last fall I planted several perennials in my garden: Holly Hocks for the back border, columbine in a clump near my red rose, a pink Peony near the step onto the porch. I’m so excited waiting for the new growth.

T

his has been a mild winter and not the best for protecting the plants. I was happy the snow fell before that wicked freeze and covered over the tiny shoots draw out by the sun.

Last year I had th most productive garden since we moved into out house seven years ago. I added marigolds and sinus to fill in the blanks, but the lilies, foxgloves, phlox and a few lily -of-the-valley made me smile for the blooming season.

this year I plan to add bee balm. I love the hummingbirds and butterflies they attract.

I can hardly wait to get my hands dirty digging in my garden.

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Home and Family by Diane Burton

It’s still spring here near the eastern shore of Lake Michigan, although the heat is rising each day along with the humidity. Flowers are blooming—irises, rhododendrons, and a couple of blooms on the daylilies. 

daylily just starting to bloom

my favorite iris

new last summer

I love  perennials, even though they only bloom for a short time (except for the daylilies which keep going most of the summer). They spread and return stronger and fuller each year. I'm sure I've mentioned before how many of my flowers (like irises and Shasta daisies) came from my mother's garden by way of several of my other houses. Lilies of the valley came from my grandmother's farm via my mom, etc. When I see those flowers, I feel a connection with Mom and Grandma. 

outside my office window

I also brought tiger lilies from my mom's. Some people call them "ditch" lilies because they often grow wild in ditches along country roads. Do they ever spread! So I only brought a small clump from my old house. This is our second summer here in West Michigan, and already the perennials have shown how resilient they are.

Bloom where you are planted.

I can’t remember where I first read (or heard) that expression. It takes resiliency and flexibility to set down roots only to have them yanked out and transplanted again. Those of you who have moved with your (or your spouse’s) job know what I mean. Too often it’s the wife who doesn’t have a choice. She sets down roots, makes a nest, settles in, then—whammo—uprooted again. Flowers have been my way of bringing something of myself along, something that reminds me of “home”—wherever that is.

Home is a nebulous concept. It isn’t a house, although many refer to a building as their home. The slogan “it’s what’s inside that counts” refers to more than a product. What’s inside a house, or rather who’s inside makes a building a home. For our last three houses, it’s only been Hubs and me. We’re a family just as we were when we first married. But when our children and grandchildren are in the house, it’s feels so much better, like home. I understand the appeal of multi-generational homesteads. 

In the television series Blue Bloods, an episode doesn’t go by without the entire Reagan clan (four generations) sitting around the dining room table for Sunday dinner. What a tradition. It helps that they all live close by. In today’s society, families are spread out across a state or even across the country. Too often extended families only get together for weddings and funerals. Maybe even a reunion.

How do we preserve the sense of family?

Diane Burton writes romantic adventure . . . stories that take place on Earth and beyond. She blogs here on the 8th and 30th of each month and on Mondays on her own site: http://dianeburton.blogspot.com/