Whether your getaway-for-two is over Valentine’s Day or not, by land or by sea, you can enhance your romance wherever you go — without spending a fortune. Here are some inexpensive and easy tips: Find a garden. It could be right there at your resort, in a park near your hotel, or part of an […]
via Easy Ways to Enhance Your “Getaway” Romance — I Luv2cruz!
One thousand. Could be a big number, could be small. Depends, right? Well, for me, a thousand is just a little goal I’d like to hit to kick off the new year. I only need a few more “likes” on my Facebook author page to hit that goal and move toward the next.
Want to help get me over that hump? The publishing/marketing gurus say the best way to sell a book is by word of mouth. You know, you tell a friend about this great book/author you read.
So here’s the plan. Visit my Darlene Deluca Author page on Facebook. You like the page and tag a friend or two in the comments and encourage them to like the page, too (not this post). They also like the page and leave a comment (so I know who they are), and you all are included in a drawing for a $10 Amazon gift card!
It’s easy!
1. Like Darlene Deluca Author on Facebook
2. Tag a Friend
3. Friend likes page and comments/replies to your tag.
4. Everyone gets a chance to win!
I’ll draw the winner Friday evening (or later if it takes a little longer to hit the mark!)
Ready? Go!
Thanks, and good luck! 🙂
I am not athletic. I’ll just put that out there up front. But it’s probably no surprise, right? Bookish at a young age equals nerdy equals non-athletic. I do, indeed, fit that stereotype. I’m the girl who feared/loathed P.E. class.
I remember the embarrassment of being chosen last for a team, any team (or not chosen at all, and simply assigned as the leftover). I mean, really, who wants a scrawny girl who’s afraid of the ball on their team? I get it.
Endurance is a big word in the sports world, right? It’s important to build up your endurance. To go the distance. Yeah, well, for me, P.E. was all about endurance – enduring the class.
I ran across this dodge ball meme, and wondered if it was true. Do today’s kids miss out on the opportunity to be hit repeatedly by a red rubber ball? Oh, the memories this meme dredges up. Dodge ball and Red Rover were among the most humiliating games. I was such an easy target. Remember the chant? “Red Rover, Red Rover, send Darlene right over.” Not sure how that was fun for my opposing teams, but I certainly got my exercise in Red Rover. I could never break through the line, so I spent a lot of time running from one side to the other. Actually, volleyball may have been the worst. At least with dodge ball there was a chance the ball would hit me in the backside, or the leg. But with volleyball, what are the chances of it not hitting my face?! I’m looking up. The ball is coming down over the net. The physics of that trajectory put the ball squarely in my face. Volleyball was pegged as a girl sport. But I hated volleyball, even if it was a girlie game.
Sophomore year of high school we still had a P.E. requirement. For the love of God, would this never end? But, wait! There was a new course offering – drill team. And it could be counted as a P.E. credit. Hallelujah! It meant I could escape the swim semester of P.E. Unfortunately, my euphoria was short-lived. The class was run by a battle-axe of a drill sergeant. And it turned out that her vision of a drill team and mine were quite different. The group ended up being on the hokey side, in my 16-year-old opinion, complete with short white cowboy boots, cowboy hats and vests. If I had hoped to also gain a point or two in the popularity standings by being part of this new half-time entertainment show, it soon became apparent that would not happen. But the opposite was a definite possibility. I could not be on this team. So, it was a P.E. quandary. Go back and suffer through regular P.E. class or endure the humiliation of drill team? In a stroke of good fortune, a friend and I cut a deal with the battle-axe. We were allowed to drop off the team, but stay in the class as long as we showed up and learned the routines. Whew! It was a sweet compromise, but the longest semester of my life.
Okay, lest you think I am completely inept and uncoordinated, let me say I was better with ropes than balls. I was able to climb the long ropes dangling from the gym ceiling, and I did have one somewhat athletic claim to fame. In third grade, I was crowned the jump rope queen. Champion of the entire grade’s jump rope marathon. I jumped the hell out of that rope for what seemed like hours, almost giddy, watching my classmates drop one by one until only one boy and I were left. At that point, my arms ached, and my legs were starting to shake. But I. Was. Determined. I did not stop jumping that rope until I saw him go down. And then . . . well, with my usual athleticism, I basically collapsed. Let go of that rope and sank onto the floor – right down onto my ankle. So, wearing my crown of glory, I was wheeled out of the gym in a little red wagon. Not even kidding.
Ahhh, glory days.
And what are your athletic accomplishments?
So we’re planning to get a Christmas tree this weekend. We always get a live tree, and almost always end up going on one of the coldest nights of the year. That’s not the plan, as I am a winter weather wimp, but as fate would have it . . . that’s the way it goes. I’m watching the forecast, but whatever, the schedule says it’s this weekend. Because we don’t want to wait too late.
One year, a few years ago, we decided to wait until both kids were home from college before getting the tree. You know, make it a fun family outing.
Well, we did have that, but when we pulled up to our longtime Christmas tree lot, the place was packed up and put away. Gone. Except for . . . this.
One lone deformed tree had been left behind. I mean, this tree made Charlie Brown’s tree look like perfection. At least his was shaped like a tree! This thing looked more like a shrub in need of a serious trimming — something fitting for a Dr. Seuss scene. Sitting in the car in the cold, we considered our options. Go drive around and try to find another lot that was open? I have no idea whether there were any others that still had trees. It didn’t matter, though, because a kind of poor-baby sympathy began to well up for this pathetic little tree-thing that nobody wanted. Plus, it was free, right?
In the spirit of Christmas, we decided to give the thing a home. So, we loaded it up and took it with us. My husband had to hack and saw on it just to get it into the tree stand. Once inside the living room, there was a definite “now what?” moment. Laugh or cry?! Well, we dressed it up as best we could with our usual ornaments. Had we known this is what we’d end up with for the year, we might have come up with a clever “theme” more fitting of the situation. But time was running out, so we made do.
In the end, we kind of liked our wacky little Seuss bush-tree. It was worth some laughs. And made a fond family memory!
Do you have a favorite let’s-make-the-best-of-it holiday story? Do share!
It’s almost Halloween, but the bump I’m referring to had nothing to do with Halloween. There were no ghosts or creepy costumed characters or ax-wielding zombies.
The thing that went bump in the night was . . . my dad.
It happened a few nights ago when he got out of bed for a visit to the bathroom, and found that his legs wouldn’t carry him. They cramped, and he fell. He was aware enough to know something was wrong, but he didn’t make the connection. He was suffering a stroke.
Like those men who refuse to ask for directions, my dad is reluctant to ask for help. Rather than banging on the wall or yelling for my mother, he spent the entire night – nine hours – on the floor. This, it turns out, is one of the more dire consequences of snoring. My mother, unable to sleep through the noise, had gone to another room upstairs, and had no idea anything had happened until the next morning when she finally realized he was sleeping later than usual.
His stroke was the bleeding kind, and not the clot kind, so getting the clot-busting medicine in a hurry was not a factor. Still, damage was done. Who knows whether getting to the hospital nine hours earlier would have made a difference. I can’t help but think it might’ve. Of course, we’re all still scratching our heads over the fact that he didn’t call for help. Really, if you fall and can’t get up – it’s okay to yell and wake someone up!
The brain is a funny thing. Dad was able to relate the story of what had happened, and even what time. He’s alert and able to communicate. He has strength in his arms and legs, but there is a disconnect. Though he can feel his toes, and move them, he can’t tell whether they are on the floor, so he can’t stand up. He has no sense of balance. He’ll be transferred to a rehab facility in a day or two, where he will, hopefully, regain his balance and learn to walk again. Doctors are optimistic that he’ll get there and have full mobility again. That’s certainly our hope. No wheelchairs. No permanent disabilities. And, please, no more bumps in the night.
Remember the acronym FAST to help you spot the signs of a stroke.
So this is it – the extent of my Fall/Halloween decorating. You’re jealous of the originality and effort that went into it, aren’t you? I must be the next Martha Stewart, right? Well, it did require a trip to the grocery store and some physical activity to gather the hedge apples.
Maybe some people do more lavish decorating once their “nest” is empty, but this is it for me. There’s no fake spider web material in the windows (I have enough of the real thing, thank you very much), no ghosts or skeletons hanging around, and no twinkling lights or sinister sound machines blowing in the trees.
Because, of course, there are no kids! Well, maybe. I suppose that’s part of it. I think it might just be the next phase. A transition. Decorating for all the seasons/holidays isn’t a high priority anymore. We’ve morphed into the de-cluttering phase. Scaling back. Less is more.
I visited a friend’s house last weekend and was amazed at the level of fall decorating both inside and outside her house. It was beautiful – wreaths, flowers, candles, etc., all artfully arranged throughout the rooms. Rich tones of gold and bittersweet were woven into impressive mantel and table displays. But as I looked around, I couldn’t help thinking, “Wow. That’s a lot of work.” And time. And money. And storage. The truth is, my house won’t ever look like that because I’m simply not inclined to devote the time and energy to that level of seasonal transformation. That’s OK. I thoroughly enjoyed her efforts! 🙂
Which holidays do you enjoy decorating for?
Have you ever been really excited about giving a gift? You’ve bought something that’s the perfect gift, and you know the recipient is going to love it? You anticipate the smile and joy the gift will bring? You can’t wait to watch the person open it?
I have a gift that arrived via UPS yesterday (several days earlier than I was expecting it). It’s a great present. I know my dad is going to love it. And now it’s sitting here in this big, cool box, and I have to wait a week and a half to give it to him!
I enjoy giving gifts. I enjoy coming up with a special item that perfectly fits the recipient and the occasion. I’ve been told that gift-giving is my “language of love.” I suppose that’s true.
My dad turns eighty in a couple of weeks, and we’re having a celebration. It’s kind of a big deal, so I’ve spent a considerable amount of mental energy on this – the quest for the perfect present. A phone call to him resulted in no good ideas. A couple of conversations with my mother also yielded zip. So I was beginning to feel anxious. I’ve bought the man more puzzles, billfolds and shirts than I can even remember. Each year it gets harder. I wanted this one to be more special, something a little out of the ordinary. And I have a reputation to maintain!
Trying not to hurt myself with the back-patting, but I’m so happy that I finally had an epiphany while on vacation last week. Whew! Don’t you love it when that happens? I ended up ordering it online because retail store options were limited. So I didn’t get to touch and feel it. Didn’t get to see the actual color and material, so when I hit the “purchase” button, I was a little nervous. Opening the package yesterday was a relief. It’s great! Did I mention perfect?
I won’t give it away in case there are family members reading this. But, trust me, it’s a good one. Can’t wait to watch him tear into this package, and snap a couple of photos. The anticipation of his smile makes me smile!
What’s the best gift you’ve ever given?
Apparently today, July 6, is International Kiss Day!
http://www.dw.com/en/pucker-up-its-international-kissing-day/a-19381093
So, it seems appropriate to talk kisses! First kiss . . . Fall in love kiss . . . Favorite book or movie kiss . . .
Here’s a kiss scene from my work in progress, Barefoot Days, book three in my Women of Whitfield small-town friendship series:
“Do you remember the first time I kissed you?”
Smiling, Sara looked away as a crazy flush heated her face. She gave a little laugh, remembering the scene exactly. Her first kiss. Ever. So long ago, and tucked so far back in her memory she hadn’t thought of it in years.
Finally, she met his eyes. “Yeah. I remember.” She covered her mouth with her hand as tears welled in her eyes again. “Oh, my gosh, Evan. You gave me my first kiss.”
The boyish smile on his face tugged at her heart.
“Valentine’s Day.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Fifth grade. Sitting on the porch at our old house.” The memory came alive front and center. He’d hidden a pink carnation and a valentine card in his lunch bag. As soon as her mother went inside the house, Evan held the items out to her. When she took them, he grabbed her arm, pressed a kiss to her lips, then turned and ran away. They’d never spoken of it.
She shook her head. “That was so sweet.”
Evan’s brows shot up. “Sweet?” He put a fist to his heart. “Angel, please. Have a little consideration for my man pride.” He took a step closer. “Let me see if I can do better than that.” With a hand caressing the back of her neck, he bent his head again, his warm lips slanting over hers, and was a long time coming up for air.
Do you have a favorite kiss scene? Please share! Authors, feel free to share a SHORT (general audience) kiss from one of your novels!
Whether you get a sweet kid kiss or a hot and steamy tingle-your-toes kiss, have a great day!
So Memorial Day is generally viewed as the unofficial start of summer – that time when we all start dreaming of long, tranquil days and free time on our hands, right?
Ahhh, I attempted to ring in my favorite season lounging in the sun on my patio, book in hand. Twice, I took my cushion, book, and iced tea outside. And twice, pop-up showers disrupted my delightful plan and drove me inside again.
I’m still a bit miffed about it. The day started out so promising. Plenty of sunshine and only a few clouds. The guys were gone. The flowers smiled cheerily, finally planted and in their places. The patio beckoned.
Sigh. I’m left hoping, waiting, for the next opportunity. With mosquito season upon us as well, the opportunities on the patio diminish. It will end up being a view I enjoy from behind glass. So where will I perch for summer reading? I don’t see a beach read in my immediate future, but perhaps, a book by the pool. For sure, a book up in the quiet Colorado mountains later in the season. That’s one of my favorite reading spots.
Where are you hoping to hide away with a book this summer?
My writer friends tell me that now they sell more e-books than paperbacks, but I know a place where plenty of people are still buying and reading real books — the airport! When you have some time ahead of a flight, here are some of the airport bookstores you’ll want to browse around in while […]
darlene deluca 