Reading By The Season: December

There are certain books I re-read at certain times of the year. There’s just something about the stories that suit my mood for that season.

Every December, I re-read Silver Lining by Maggie Osborne. My paperback copy is in tatters. The Kindle edition is on my wish list.

The heroine of the story is a woman alone in the 1800’s, who could have made her living on her back, as the preacher reminds the hero after their “forced” marriage, but instead worked all kinds of jobs to support herself. Her varied careers give her more insight into what makes the hero tick than he has into her. It takes his mother to point out certain home truths about his unwanted wife to the hero. There’s a perfect villain and a wonderful cast of secondary characters.

The reason I read this book in December is because of the Christmas scene. The heroine had never had a family. She’d never had a Christmas: “…she was positive that her first Christmas Eve with a real family would be the best evening of her whole life.” The hero’s family works together to give her a Christmas to remember. “Tonight was the most wonderful, the most beautiful, the absolute best evening of my life!”  It’s a turning point scene in the book. I shed a few tears every time I read it.

Do you have a favorite holiday story?

 

My “Do Not Call” List

I was home sick with a sinus infection a couple of afternoons this past week. Every time I started to doze, the telephone rang (or TV Stevie came home with a treat for me). And not a single one of the calls was an actual call. but rather was a solicitation from a stranger, and more often than not in the form of a robo call.

I am on the national “Do Not Call” list. In fact, I just checked to make sure my telephone numbers are still registered. They are. But, according the the website: “Political solicitations are not covered by the TSR at all, since they are not included in its definition of “telemarketing.” Charities are not covered by the requirements of the national registry.” And that sucks. A lot of scammers pretend to be charities and wake me up. Or interrupt my viewing of The Roosevelts. Or my writing.

Some people suggest checking caller ID before answering the phone. Caller ID does not miraculously prevent the phone from ringing in the first place. And that’s what prevents me from napping. Or watching TV. Or writing, reading, cooking dinner, or meditating. And this past week was sunny. And one of my definitions of heaven is napping on the living room sofa with the sun on my face.

I pay a telephone bill for my convenience, not some solicitor’s sales quota. There is something inherently wrong about paying to be disturbed by unwanted calls. Yet we keep the land line because so many places with which we do business require a telephone number, and we are not about to give out our cell numbers so they, too, can be sold to more business to annoy us.

The only people I want calling me are my husband, children, parents, siblings, nieces/nephews, publisher(s), potential agents, and my physician’s office to tell me yes, the doctor will write a script for meds for my sinus infection, and my pharmacy to say, “Your prescription is ready for pick up.”

Retreat Recap

My writing retreat was amazing. We had perfect travel weather book-ending our stay in the cottage in the woods. There were words written (Saturday, 5,004 words; Sunday, 5273 words; Monday, 5253 words; Tuesday, 2500 words), wine, a fire each evening as we watched movies or Downton Abbey, a Syracuse University basketball game, snow swirling outside our windows, laughter, and friendship.

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Dream Dilemmas

Last night’s dream created a dilemma for me. I’ve often wondered what I would do in a similar situation,

In the dream, I was in Rome, NY, a lovely city not far from my home city. I was visiting the family of a school friend–why they were living in Rome, I have no clue. I was cooking dinner for them, when one of her parents called me on my cell phone and told me to look out the window. One side of the house was bright and sunny, the other was scary-dark. And in the distance, I could see a funnel cloud. A tornado.

In the meantime, I was called into a trial in another room in the house. For some reason, I’m sitting in the press box, which was also the jury box. There were people there from my current day job, and somehow this trial was related to the day job. I was stressing about how we needed to get water and supplies and get into the basement because of the tornado, and the jury was arguing about the dial-designation of WKRP in Cincinnati. No one from the current job understood the danger of the weather, and nothing I said had any impact. Every time I looked out a window, the dark, swirling mass was growing closer.

I also wanted to take photos of the tornado and text them to former colleagues in newsrooms back in my home city–except I didn’t know to whom I should text them. I didn’t have anyone’s personal number in my cell phone, and I was torn between the NBC affiliate (which essentially simulcasts on my old station’s channel) and the ABC affiliate. My desire to give someone “live, local, breaking” was stymied by reality.

I was really glad when I  wakened.