Maybe we do...

have a second childhood when we reach a certain age.  Although I think I've probably reached it sooner than I would have expected, considering my renewed taste for orange soda.  I don't know if that's a good thing or not!

Back to Piney Point...

and it's about time, isn't it?  I was doing great, diligently writing a new chapter every day when I started on January first, but then tax season arrived and something had to give.  Unfortunately, it was the new adventures of my amateur detective, her hunky husband and their precocious offspring that got put on hold temporarily while I spent the next several months doing paying meaningful work.  I'm finally all caught up, the spring summer cleaning is done and I am determined to get back on my chapter-a-day schedule.  My goal is a finished mystery by the end of August and with any luck, a free Kindle download for Dead and Dug Up on Amazon by the first of October.  Apparently, digital is the new wave of publishing for emerging writers - no agent necessary.  We'll see how this goes...  If you've been waiting with bated (yes, bated - not baited) breath for a new installment of Dead and Dug Up, check back later this evening on my Piney Point blog for the latest chapter.

Where did June go?

That's the question I've been asking myself all day today - and what did I accomplish this month?  On the surface it doesn't look like I did much, but I am all caught up on the bookkeeping I let slide during tax season, the spring cleaning is done (yes, I know it's summer...) and I finished my photo scanning project.  So I have been working hard, just not working very hard at blogging or writing.

Which I plan to begin again in earnest - tomorrow.

I've also spent my evenings reading.  I discovered M.C. Beaton and her Agatha Raisin mystery series.  And her Hamish MacBeth mystery series.  Very Agatha Christie in style and substance.  I like them both very much - the only problem is that I am waiting on Agatha Raisin book number nine - I found a used copy for cheap - and the postal service keeps disappointing me!  I've read some Hamish MacBeth in the meantime; his adventures can be read out of order without too much disruption to the continuing story line.  I'd download the Kindle version, but it really irritates me off that the digital edition is often more expensive than the paperback.  I've been getting the paperback versions because then I can share with my book buddies.  I know that defeats the purpose of digital books and saving trees and all that, but what can I say?  I'm an avid reader, but I'm also a cheapskate!

A new good thing...

I thought I'd share: SanPelligrino sparkling blood orange soda.  It was on sale at Publix this week and I thought I'd try it.  It's excellent!  I also got a six-pack of the grapefruit flavor but I haven't tried that yet.  Fizzy, not too sweet - very refreshing!

I guess hoarding is more widespread...

than one would think.  Yes, I admit to hoarding a few cookbooks, but they are all stored neatly in the cupboard over my range hood.  My friend (who shall not be named) is a self-confessed hoarder who has vowed to get her life in order this year.  I've been promising some inspiration photos for my friend's own kitchen for some time now - and having completed my annual spring cupboard purge, I have decided to post them here for her on our little blog.

I am fortunate to have a fairly large pantry in the kitchen and I was merciless when I sorted it out - if I hadn't used it in a year, away it went.  Crockpot, toaster, you name it - gone to new homes.  I'm still sort of a hoarder when it comes to provisions - but I prefer to think of it as having a well-stocked pantry.

Baking pans, mixing bowls, mixer.  I try to make use of plastic bins to organize like items and keep the clutter to a minimum.  Lord, I'm sounding like Martha Stewart...

Silverware drawer just above the baking cupboard.  Yes, I got rid of the ugly white plastic trays and went with the pretty bamboo.  I think it just makes putting things away more fun.  Really.

As you can see, I hid the ugly-after-I-really-looked-at-it Keurig cup carousel.  It was a good idea in theory, but not so visually pleasing to have on the kitchen counter.  I also pared down my glassware to six glasses and four teacups.  No - five!  I moved one to the top shelf with my antique coffee pot.

I've discovered that the drawer under the oven makes a great spot to store canned goods, rice and soup mixes.  My panini grill is also tucked in there out of sight - along with my little frying pan.

Some of these cupboards are so small and oddly shaped that it's a challenge to make good use of them.  Two plastic bins fit nicely in this one: I use the top for foil, waxed paper and zip-loc bags; the bottom is for baking mixes and oil.  Also a great place to stash the peanut butter!

This small drawer has turned out to be perfect for spices and other cooking necessities.  The can opener, pizza cutter, and measuring cups have finally found a permanent home here as well.

Under the sink is pretty ugly, but the storage bins help corral bags, water filters and cleaning supplies.  Unfortunately, it's the only space where the pizza stone and a couple of platters will fit.

Finally, I've pared down a multitude of dishes to one set of Mary Engelbreit stoneware and one tea cup and saucer of each ME design.  The top shelf is a great space for my colorful colander and a couple of rarely-used snack baskets.  I like opening a cabinet and seeing color and organization!  I hope my little kitchen tour encourages you to purge, organize and beautify an everyday space!

It's a good year for plums...

apparently, and my friend Erin in Arkansas made a big batch of plum jelly!  She was kind enough to send me a jar - along with some blueberry muffin mix.  Guess what we'll be having for breakfast on Sunday...  Thanks so much, Erin!

The Cabot Cove of England...

is the fictional county of Midsomer and its various little villages: Badger's Drift, Martyr Warren, Haddington, and many others -as well as the larger county town, Causton, where DCI Tom Barnaby lives with his wife, Joyce, and daughter, Cully.  As with most shows of the cozy genre, it is ever amazing how many seemingly normal people are willing to commit murder for one odd reason or another.  We watched murder and mayhem for years on Murder, She Wrote and just imagine, it's been going on all along in England, too.  I tell you, I could watch the BBC every day and be perfectly happy.  Having watched every season of MI-5, I've moved on from terrorism to more mundane crimes on Midsomer Murders.  It's available for free on AmazonPrime and I've watched five or six episodes - and so far, it has not disappointed.  It's not so much mysterious, thrilling suspense as it is the mildly humorous business of the classic whodunit.  DCI Barnaby is a good judge of people and does most of his work through observation rather than direct questioning of the suspects.  His assistant, Detective Sergeant Troy, is good sidekick material and provides a good deal of comic relief with his lack of driving skills and brilliant perception of the obvious.  The coroner, George, is almost too good-natured for a man who spends the vast majority of his time with dead bodies.  Mrs. Barnaby cannot cook, much to her husband's chagrin, but is passionately interested in the arts and the theatre.  Their daughter, an actress, appears to be more like her father.  And then there's the oddball cast of what seems like thousands: the victims, suspects and various other individuals who inhabit the fictional jurisdiction of the thoroughly likeable fictional detective.  Midsomer Murders is not only entertaining and funny,  it's lots of fun, too.  Check out the pilot episode, and if you're even remotely a fan of Agatha Christie, you'll be hooked.

Time to read is a gift...

that I am really grateful for this quiet time of year.  While I still haven't completely caught up from tax season, I'm working on it and I've taken advantage of a few phone-free hours to indulge my inner bibliophile.  I read the latest in the Isabel Dalhousie series from the wonderful Alexander McCall Smith and while it's not a murder mystery, it's still a mystery.  It's a gentle sort of story - that's the only way I can describe The Forgotten Affairs of Youth.  A couple of ongoing plot issues are resolved, a couple of new ones are introduced and Isabel helps a young woman find her biological father.  Or so she thinks.  As always, I recommend anything by this wonderful author and this book is no exception.

Eleven-year-old sleuth, Flavia deLuce is back in I Am Half-sick of Shadows, the fourth mystery in Alan Bradley's series set in 1950s England.  Christmas is coming and Colonel deLuce has rented out Buckshaw, their crumbling country estate, to a film company in the hope of boosting the ever-dwindling family fortune.  Of course, there is a murder and Flavia is determined to expose the killer - and maybe catch Santa Claus while she's at it.  A fun read, but still not nearly as good as Flavia's debut in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie.

And finally, rounding out today's reviews: Major Pettigrew's Last Stand - a delightful first novel by Helen Simonson.  The retired (and widowed) major lives somewhere south of London in the small village of Edgecombe St. Mary.  Sounds vaguely Christie-esque, doesn't it?  Mrs. Ali is the widow of the Pakistani shopkeeper in the village.  The two strike up an unlikely friendship; will it turn to romance?  You'll have to read it and see - it's a lovely little book and I am looking forward to Simonson's next novel.

Something has been bugging me...

lately and well, it's time to vent.  And please bear in mind that I mean this in the nicest possible way...  I'm tired of reading plagiarized blogs.  There, I said it.  I know that the prevailing public opinion is that bloggers are a bunch of self-promoting narcissists.  There may be a grain or two of truth in that statement, but if you're going to be a self-promoting narcissist, at least be an original one.  I follow a few blogs religiously, and do you know why I enjoy them?  These bloggers write about their lives - their uncensored, original lives - and their writing is uniquely original.  I'll admit, the English major in me finds a couple of them not terribly well written and one is actually intensely boring, but I appreciate the content because it is entirely original thought.  But others, well - if you have nothing to say, don't copy an article from some fluff women's magazine and paste it into your blog.  This type of blogging happens quite frequently - haven't people ever heard of attribution?  A copied post is blatantly obvious; originality is, at the very least, the art of concealing one's sources.  I saw this print on Etsy and loved the Melville quote:  It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.  

I'm getting off my blogging soapbox now.

Isn't it amazing...

how one little part is integral in making a vehicle run?  Ray and I had a small near-meltdown this morning when he suddenly died at the post office - in the drive-through mailbox lane.  I deposited my envelopes and as I pulled forward, he went slower... slower... slower and then refused to move at all.  When I tried to restart Ray's engine, all I heard was click, click, click.  After a momentary wave of panic - and flash of deja vu to my dead twelve-year-old Expedition a couple of years ago, I took a deep breath and calmed down.  This is not the worst thing that has ever happened to me, I thought.  Not by a long shot.

Fortunately, I have AAA and I called them for assistance.  After a fashion, that is.  My cell phone, which I rarely use, was not cooperating and the AAA lady hung up on me three times because she couldn't hear me.  I finally got through and then the idiots people who had begun to congregate behind me started honking and yelling obscenities at me and poor, dead Ray.  I mean, honestly, do you really think anyone would actually choose to block traffic at the exit of a one-lane postal drop off?  A nice man did try to help me before the tow truck arrived, but he determined that it was probably the alternator and that I did indeed need a professional's help.  I also called Ariela, bless her heart, who came and picked me up and we followed the tow truck to her husband's friend's garage.  Jose said he'd check it out and to come back in an hour.  We retired to the nearby Burger King for a chat and a mango smoothie - so the morning wasn't a total loss.  After picking up Baby at the preschool, we check backed with the garage; it was indeed a worn-out alternator.  And praise be to heaven, the battery was fine!

Payroll and piles of old files awaited me at the Tortilleria - my new weekly venture away from my cozy home office - so Ariela dropped me off.  The mechanic said that Ray would be ready by three, so it gave me a few hours to get some work done and find a ride to pick up my little SUV.  After sweltering for four hours in a small, poorly ventilated room with several tortilla ovens and conveyors operating around the corner, I finally threw in the towel and called Richard to hitch a ride to pick up good, old, trusty Ray the Isuzu Rodeo.  A few minutes later, I saw his mini-van outside and off we went.  By the time I got home, I was hot, worn out and $200 poorer, but Ray was running like a champ.  His alternator worked fine for ten years - or at least for the last two he's been with me, so it was just time for a new one.  Years ago, I would have freaked out at the sort of day I had today - but I've learned to be thankful for small things.  Today I was grateful for AAA, for my friends who were willing to give of their time and gas, and for being able to afford an emergency car repair.  Life is good.

Checking items off the list...

really makes me happy!  Aggie wasn't sure what was going on this past Saturday, but after her morning crunch, she stayed out of the way while my friend, Richard, helped me with some long-awaited home improvement projects.

Our walls are a boring, lifeless taupe - painted with not-so-great flat paint.  I can live with it since I've added color to the place with all of my stuff, but the living room wall was calling out for something more.

So now we have a lovely green accent wall.  Richard is taking a phone break between coats, talking with his Army son, Todd, who has just returned safely from Afghanistan - a real answer to many prayers.

While the first coat dried thoroughly, Richard took on another project of adding a second shelf to my laundry closet.  This is the before photo - the shelf I ordered was too long and he took it to Home Depot to be cut to size while he was out to run a couple of personal errands.

Richard mounted the second shelf underneath the existing shelf - it was so snug we ended up not needing the center bracket.  I have been so looking forward to corralling the laundry area mess!

As soon as the second coat of paint was dry, I helped Richard rehang my artwork and I vacuumed behind the furniture - it's only been nearly two years!  Then he moved the furniture right back where it was - doesn't the new color look great?

I spent some time yesterday tidying up the laundry closet and filling the baskets on my new shelf.  What's in them?  Clothes!  When I got rid of the bedroom nightstands with drawers, I lost my everyday, around-the-house clothes drawers - so this was the perfect solution.  Wash, dry, fold, store - and wear!  I'm happy to say the laundry is completely caught up - for once - and I even washed my tennis shoes.  Now all I need to do is rummage around the house for an empty basket for my socks...

Of course, Aggie is completely exhausted from all of the commotion and has been lazing about on the sofa all day yesterday and today.  We should all be so lucky.

Peter still doesn't know what all the fuss is about, having slept through all the excitement under the bed.  All he needs to know is that when Mom is happy, everybody is happy!

I have always suspected...

that crying did actually relieve stress - but it is apparently a verifiable, scientific fact.  And I could use a good cry right about now.  Seriously.  I don't know when I have felt so overwhelmed and so ill-equipped to deal with everything.  I am frantically trying to catch up on all of the work I let slide during tax season, my house is a disaster area and I am emotionally drained listening to people who seem to feel comfortable revealing their deepest, darkest secrets to me.  I tell you - that therapy chair has got to go.  People feel better when they leave here - having dumped all of their troubles on me, but consequently I feel like crap.  I honestly don't know how mental health counselors and psychotherapists do their jobs - or if they burn out after a few years of listening to other people's problems.  Maybe they just cry a lot.  Or change the subject.  I'm not looking to open a psychotherapy practice and unfortunately, I don't know a nice way to tell people that I don't want to hear their tales of woe.  Really - is there a nice way?  I have suggested professional counseling to the person who is currently spending a considerable amount of time in the chair, but that suggestion has not been acted upon as of yet.  I know that the main goal of therapy is to help the client work out his own issues, but I can't sit here and do the nod and repeat-the-client's-thought-in-different-words thing.  Sorry, Dr. Rogers.  I can listen sympathetically up to a point and then I end up doling out good, sound Lucy VanPelt-style advice.  And dang it, if you sit in my therapy chair and ask for my opinion on your situation and advice on how to deal with it, then you dang well ought to take said advice seriously - or at least give it some consideration.  And therein lies the problem; the tale of woe continues and the what-should-I-do question is reworded - hoping for the answer the occupant of the chair wants to hear - but I'm wise to that ploy.  I am not going to listen to the whole megillah only to give someone permission to continue the same destructive behavior.  And so I repeat the same advice: do the right thing, sh-t or get off the pot, as my grandmother would say.  Of course, no one is really going to listen to me - people just want to put in the chair time so they feel better.
As for me, I think I'll just have a good cry.

Upgrade time...

This is my old faithful Canon digital camera.  It has 8 mega pixels and takes pretty good photographs.  It's also the last birthday gift my soon-to-be ex-husband gave me and I realized that I thought about him nearly every time I used it.  Silly, I know, but there you have it.  And since he's apparently decided that it's time for an upgrade, I thought an upgrade was in order, too.

Meet my new friend: Canon PowerShot SX130.  He has 12 mega pixels and a 12x zoom lens.  I resisted the temptation to go with the popular Canon Rebel because I don't really have the need for a DSLR camera.  The point and shoot with automatic settings is just perfect for me and my little blogs.  And for photos of Aggie, Peter and our cozy nest.  The best part was a really reasonable price since the newer model is about to be released - more mega pixels, I guess.  You really can tell a difference in the image quality; the top photo was taken with the new camera and the bottom photo with the old one (obviously!).  I haven't had a lot of time to do much experimenting, but soon.  If Aggie and Pete would only sit still!

It really has been a while...

since I posted!  This new Blogger set-up is a little unfamiliar, but I am sure I will figure it out.  Tax season and that horrific allergy episode I had didn't kill me, so I guess I've come out stronger on the other side.  I have also discovered the brew-over-ice cups for my Keurig - wonderful!  Fresh tea in every glass - I am in heaven.  I am also thrilled with the ability to have just one cup of coffee - flavored or otherwise - and not throw away the other seven or eight cups.  Lord, I am thankful every day for caffeine...