Writer Wednesday Post
Today’s topic asks us to report out last three search results. As you’ll soon be able to tell, I am not currently in the heart of researching or writing. When I was researching my Furies series, Lady Vice, Lady Scandal and the upcoming Duchess Decadence, some searches I did were: “secret rooms in 18th century houses,” “18th century quills,” “graphite holder,” and “extinct titles” (among many others!). Although those searches led to interesting places, I love when research happens in reverse, as it did when I found this article on recently discovered bone telescopes so interesting, I edited a scene in Lady Vice to include a bone telescope.
But I digress.
Without further ado, here are my last three search results:
Scott Bradlee’s Post Modern Jukebox: http://postmodernjukebox.com/
A friend of Facebook had posted a video by these performers and I was HOOKED. I missed their recent tour but I hope to catch them next time they come around. I love their smokey, jazzy take on current hits.
Stash Tea Cinnamon Apple Chamomile: http://www.stashtea.com/Cinnamon-Apple-Chamomile-Herbal-Tea/dp/B005DM5OQA
I’m, shall we say, a bit tense these days (see below). I’m also reaching the bottom of my container of various forms of Chamomile tea (or, as I like to think of it–‘calm-the-heck-down,-Wendy’ tea). Not good. So, I searched to find out if Stash still makes this unusual flavor (because I lurrves it, even though I try not to drink tea that contains ‘natural flavors’).
And, Continue reading
Nature-wise, the North East is generally rather kind. Our earthquakes tend to be mild, our tornadoes, short-lived and small, and, other than the occasional hurricane, blizzard, or ice storm, weather-related inconveniences are minor. Though I *have* been caught in quite a few blizzards, ice storms & hurricanes, my scariest experiences had more to do with improvising after poor planning for long hikes or surviving weeks of dry pipes when my well-water line froze.
However, this post refers to natural disasters. Although I already blogged about Hurricane Sandy on this blog here, believe it or not, Sandy came up a few times in the past two weeks, so I thought I would revisit that particular event with a new perspective.
Hurricane Sandy hit NYC on a Monday in Late October, 2012 and according to a CDC study, of the 117 deaths due to the Hurricane, 53 of those occurred in New York. Compared to the devastation experienced at the Jersey Shore, Staten Island & Long Island, Manhattan was relatively unscathed. However, the island of Manhattan is cupped by the Hudson River to the West and the East River to the East and during the hurricane, those rivers rose by as much as 15 feet, pouring water onto highways and side streets and blowing out a major transformer at a substation on 14th Street. If you lived downtown, as I did at the time, power was out for four to five days. And, if you lived in a highrise above the second floor (which I did NOT), toilets would not flush and fresh water was unavailable. Continue reading
Summertime! It’s here! It’s here! Well, technically, it’s almost here. The days are long and muggy, anyway. BUT after the winter we had in the northeast I am swearing not to begrudge a moment of heat or humidity.
This week we find out how our blog circle spent summers as a kid. Yay!
For most Jersey girls, summers meant a trip (or several) ‘down the shore’. When I got older, I did spend the occasional weekend ‘down the shore’ but I never set eyes on a boardwalk during summer until I was in my late teens. Summer, for me, meant manual labor on my Uncle’s Farm.
My Uncle owned the Sanford, Maine farmhouse where he, my father, their brother and their sisters were raised. Every summer he’d drag a bunch of kids from my church up North to help him do whatever he needed to do to get the old house through another winter. Daily tasks included painting, rebuilding the parts of the farm and out-buildings that were crumbling (something was always crumbling), weeding the garden, planting trees, cutting down trees either to maintain the fields or to restock the supply of firewood, and, my favorite, using a log splitter to cut up the logs. The farm had a wood and electric cooking stove, a pump by the kitchen sink and walls that howled when the wind blew hard. More often than not, I pretended I was actually from an earlier time. Perhaps one of the reasons I write historical romance? 🙂 In any case, being there meant work. Really hard work. But I was with imaginative friends, so everything was a blast.
How did we get through the days? Continue reading