If you know me at all you know how much I admire Hugh Jackman.
Sigh…What was I saying? Oh, yes. A couple of my friends are dedicated to Chris Hemsworth, so they were doing Thorsday every Thursday.
I thought that was clever of them and it got me to thinking about my little crush on Hugh.
So I started Hughday. Fun, right?
Sometimes we need just a little bit of inspiration.
As a romance writer I have to research the perfect image for my heroes. Yes, it is a tough job, looking for just that right male for your next story. The face that will spark the inner conflict that will drive your plot and keep your readers turning pages. It is serous business…it is.
Well, Sunday night Mathew McConaughey, Texas Son with the smoothest voice, won Best Actor.
Now I’m on the hunt for the right word…Matthewday? uh….McConauday? …maybe Matthew McConaughey Monday? or just Alright, alright alright…Monday. That’s a mouth full.
What do you think? Matthew’s day might end up being a temporary one…I mean he IS up against Hughday, Thorsday and Freday. Freday? you ask…For those of you new, I picked the perfect day to honor my real life perfect hero. Fred Navarro – Freday – perfect, right?
So Please let me know what you think about McConauday? Maybe you have something better? Some in my house think this post was just an excuse to play with these pictures. Really?
In the sky I see my smallness and my greatness. The knowledge that the world spins, seasons come and go and each day will have a new beginning and an end comforts me in it routine. Great things will happen and I will celebrate; bad things will happen and I will survive. The mysteries of life are in God’s hands and I’m just to do the best I can.
My father loved and savored the daily events of a sunrise and sunset. I’ve been known to make my family stop so I can take a picture and for a moment think of the permanent change that is our life. Add your favorite sky picture you have taken.
Here are a few of my pictures along with a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
THE HOUSE OF CLOUDS. 1841
I would build a cloudy house
For my thoughts to live in,
When for earth too fancy-loose,
And too low for heaven.
I sleep, and talk my dream aloud,
I build it fair to see—
I build it on the moonlit cloud,
To which I looked with thee.
Cloud-walls of the morning’s grey,
Faced with amber column,
Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn—
For casements, from the valley fetch
With a sunbeam hid in each,
And a smell of spring.
Build the entrance high and proud,
Darkening and eke brightening,
Of a riven thunder-cloud
Veinëd with the lightning.
Use one with an iris-stain
For the door within,
Turning to a sound like rain
As we enter in.
For the fair hall reached thereby
Walled with cloudy whiteness, Take the blue place in the sky,
Wind-worked into brightness—
Whence corridores and long degrees
Of cloud-stairs wind away—
Till children wish upon their knees,
They walkëd where they pray.
Be my chamber tapestried
With the showers of summer,
Close and silent, glorified
When the sunbeams come there—
Sudden harpers, harping on
Every drop as such,—
Drawing colours like a tune,
Measured to the touch.
Bring a shadow green and still
From the chesnut forest—
Bring a purple from the hill
When the heat is sorest,—
Spread them out from wall to wall,
Carpet-wove around; And thereupon the foot shall fall
In light instead of sound.
Bring a grey cloud from the east
Where the lark was singing—
Something of the song at least
Lost not in the bringing,—
And that shall be a morning chair
For poet-dreams,—when with them
No verse constraint—the floating air
Their only, lovely rhythm.
Bring the red cloud from the sun—
While he sinketh, catch it,—
Bring it for a couch, with one
Side-long star to watch it—
Fit for a poet’s finest thought,
At curfew time, to lean;
When things invisible are brought
More near him than the seen. Poet’s thought, not poet’s sigh!—
Alas! they come together!
Cloudy walls divide and fly
As if in April weather.
Hall, corridore, and column proud—
My chamber fair to see—
All pass—except that moonlit cloud
To which I looked with thee.
Let them!– Wipe such visionings
From the fancy’s cartel;
Love secures some frailest things,
Dowered with his immortal.
Suns, moons may darken—heaven be bowed,—
But here unchanged shall be,
Here in my soul—that moonlit cloud,
To which I looked with thee.
I love life in a small town. People know people. They know your grandmother, your cousin and your children. You belong. You have a history. You’re part of a story.
The draw back? People remember you as a teenager, and they really know your family members.
There are different levels of small towns. Places like Leakey, Texas with less than 400 people is what I consider small. It is also the kind of town I love writing about, generations of ranchers and business owners. Kindergarteners to twelfth graders are on the same school campus. Community is strong. Not a great deal has changed there over the years.
Then you have small towns like Boerne, Texas. When I started school here in 1979, there was one high school, one middle school and two elementaries. No chain restaurant or fast food. The grocery store and pharmacy were owned by local families. About 4,000 people called it home, and you could still hear people speaking German. Boerne is going through growing pains. North of San Antonio, people love the Main street feel of small town with the convenience of the big city.
You don’t see as many family owned businesses, for the sake of convenience the big box stores have staked a claim forcing the mom and pop shops to close or redefine themselves.
I write small town stories. Lone Star Holiday takes place in a small town on the Frio River. Rumor has it the population is 400 if you count the horses.
In honor of Texas small towns and family I’m proud to announce my first book signing for Lone Star Holiday. It will be on Main Street in Boerne at Bergmann Lumber on October 19th. Yes, I’m having a book signing at a hardware store. They are one of the few family owned businesses that have found a way to survive the shift in Boerne’s population and demographics.
The two story limestone building is a historical site and owned by the same family for three generations. Randy Bergmann and his daughters have managed to reinvent their store front and focus on customer service.
So if you want to buy a story about small town, family and faith come by Bergmann Lumber on Main Street in Boerne, Texas. You can also support small businesses. Do some early Christmas shopping.http://www.bergmannlumber.com/ Book Signing Saturday October 19th from 1:00 to 3:00 pm.