Ever faithful reader, I didn’t post anything last night.  It was one of those nights I just crashed.  If a candle had three ends, I would be burning all three for the last two weeks.

I promise to put something up today.

-tired little author

Spring has hit Quill Sister’s central.   The snow was adorable, but seriously I can’t take it anymore.  I’m cold and I want to wear sandals without my toes falling off.

I firmly hope that by hosting falling flowers on this site, it encourages mother nature to be kind.

As you should know, I’ve been doing interviews with local and national best selling authors (some count as both) and posting them at Examiner.com.  I’ve been really thrilled with the response from these great ladies.

Yesterday, I was beyond thrilled with the response from Julia Quinn.  She very graciously said yes.

YES!!! Julia ‘The Great One’ Quinn.  Said yes.  Mary Mother of God.

Now, I’m making every effort to compose some intelligent questions that don’t make me sound like a stalker.

Ava was no help at all.  She wanted me to ask if we could go through her garbage or maybe make coffee for her in the morning.

But the real question remains: What would Mrs. Whistledown say?

I have this sneaking suspicion that I have an artist’s temperament just waiting to be unleashed.  The good news is that I only freak out to my sisters and My Honey and not on the people who buy my books and allow me to be published.

When I got the email from my editor with the changes she was requesting, I lost my mind in the produce department of Frys.  Ava got me under control after about 10 minutes.  I’m working on the edits and I’m with the program now, but initially crying and panicking was completely appropriate.

Then I got a cover mock-up from the artist and my head exploded.  Isabella was there this time to keep me from going postal.  My Honey got out the mop.

I seriously don’t know what I’d do without them. 

Cupcakes all around

Isabella and I think this is the funniest commercial on TV right now.  Everytime we see it, it makes us laugh.

Please enjoy!

It’s been a long time since I’ve given you an update on the antics of the idiot dog.  I hate to have you miss out on all that I put up with, but until now I hadn’t been able to obtain photographic proof.

Yesterday, we went to the grocery store.  It wasn’t so bad for a change.  We left Roscoe in the house because it was very cold out and raining off and on.  As we pulled into the driveway, I could see in the kitchen window and I could see Roscoe very clearly.  That shouldn’t have been possible as that is where the kitchen table sits.

I jumped out of the car, readied my phone camera and got this picture:

He is laying on top of the kitchen table, looking out the window and waiting patiently for us to return.

The little pieces of paper were the cards from a round of Memory that the kids and I were playing before we left.  We were going to complete it when we got home.

Please remember that Roscoe is a good 65 or 70 lbs. 

After you by that stock in Johnson & Johnson I suggested last week, you should probably check into the price of whomever manufactures Lysol and get a few shares of that as well.

I want to give you all – the faithful among you – a little reward.  People like my uncle, whom I’ve often quoted on this blog, www.newmexiken.com, can avert their eyes.

This is the cover for my new book – Out of Heaven.  It’s due to go up in the next couple of weeks.  My editor and I are working very hard to get it ready.  And my poor sisters have been listening to me hyperventilate over it since Valentine’s Day.  But hey, that’s what they get paid for.  Right?

Anyway, here it is:

Do you hear angels singing?

I had such a great day today.  Ava and I went to the monthly RWA meeting.  It was a really great meeting, and not just because I was recognized for the sale of Out of Heaven, but that was definitely a highlight.  We get a pink silk rose for the sale of a short story/novella, and I can’t even tell you how excited I was to get that silly rose.  It’s now sitting at my desk next to my computer.  It’s a good inspiration.

Then, to make the day even better, I got to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with Isabella.

My Honey took the kids to La Fiesta de los Vaqueros Rodeo.  Those of you not from Tucson – this rodeo is a BIG deal.  It was their first time attending the event although we’ve taken them to the rodeo parade that kicks off the whole thing for years.  The Bandit has refined his desire to be a bull riding cowboy.  Bull riding.  Over my dead body.  I don’t even want him to play football much less ride bulls.  Not my precious baby boy.  I new a guy when I was in my 20s that was a competition bull rider.  He had a glass eye and a permanent hoof mark on the side of his face.  No siree.

Dinner was very interesting tonight.  I knew what we were having, but I wasn’t sure how My Honey was going to convince Sassy to eat it.  She has decided, and she states her position loudly and often, that she DOES NOT LIKE TUNA FISH.  I don’t know where she tasted it and decided it was not for her, but she is vehement.  She will bring up her NON TUNA platform out of the blue and expound on it loudly, just in case anyone is interested.

Well, tonight, My Honey made tuna casserole.  I was amused when I noticed that he had hidden the evidence stealthfully in the recycle bin under the soda cans and newspapers.  I set the table with anticipation.  I was undeniably excited about dinner.  I decided I would just sit back and watch how he maneuvered her into eating it.  

When the cover came off, Sassy said with a look of disdain, “What is that?”

“Fish,” her daddy told her.  “It’s really good.  Eat it.”

She looked unconvinced, but The Bandit was scarfing it down, so she must have figured, “what the heck”.

“What?” she asked me as I watched her eat her second helping with a twinkle in my eye.

“Nothing,” I told her innocently.

My Honey wanted to tell her the big secret, but I truly think it best to trick her 6 or 7 more times first.  Well, it’s best for me.  I need the amusement.

After dinner, we had more of My Honey’s birthday cake.  5.3 seconds after The Bandit was handed his cake plate, he threw down his fork, brandished his empty plate, and yelled, “I WIN!”  Apparently, we were in a race.  He’s really taking the whole Olympics thing to heart.

I think he would have lost style points due to the layer of frosting on his face that never made it to his mouth.